Hard to Handle
by Jean-theGuardian
Summary: My take on what happened afterwards between AJ and CM Punk on Raw 5-21-2012. What happens when a wounded heart meets a pipebomb-wielding Punk? Read and find out! AJ/Punk...or Punklee! Kaitlyn/Sheamus...or Kaitmus! NEW CHAPTER!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Since Monday, I've been inspired to do something on Punk and AJ. It's a one shot-so far, but I'm toying with doing a similar story involving them and John Douchebag-initis and the whole People Power thing. What can I say? This might be my new fav shipping. Review if you dig crazy chicks (or dudes, if that's your thing) lol

All characters are owned by WWE, and are not the property of the owner. If they were, Zack Ryder would not be buried, the YES chants would not be muted, a working Divas Division would still be active, Kelly Kelly, Rosa Mendez and Alicia Fox would be modeling underwear on a platform some place like they're good for, and Laurinitis would be running a car wash somewhere instead of screwing up the company.

Hard to Handle

By Jean-theGuardian

_Action speaks louder than words  
And I'm a man of great experience  
I know you've got another man  
But I can love you better than him_

Take my hand, don't be afraid  
I'm gonna prove every word I say  
I'm advertising love for free  
So you can place your ad with me

Boys come along a dime by the dozen  
That ain't nothing but ten cent lovin'  
Hey little thing let me light your candle  
'Cause mama I'm sure hard to handle, now,  
Gets around

- Hard to Handle, Black Crowes

**One Month after RAW 5/21/2012**

It's funny how sometimes, the smallest things lead to bigger things in life, Punk absently mused, as he felt the small, tanned body of his new…something…fidgeting against him.

If you had told CM Punk two months ago that he'd finding himself hanging out…well, okay, a lot more than hanging out…with, of all girls, AJ during the after-hours of shows, he would've looked at you as if you had grown two heads and purple wings. It just wasn't likely.

But then, stranger things had happened…though, at the moment, he'd be hard-pressed to name one, even as she eagerly cuddled up against his larger, stronger frame as they just sat in the bleachers of a nearby high school on the outskirts of Pittsburg, where RAW had just finished taping nearly two hours ago, and gazed absently at the stars overhead.

It had started off fairly innocently about two weeks ago on RAW…no, actually, pretty strangely…

…_Punk was smiling to himself, musing on how great a night it had been this far. _

_One night removed from Over The Limit—where he had, yet again, had the highlight match of the night by defeating his former friend Daniel Bryan for the WWE Championship in a classic matchup 10 years in the making—he had gotten even with Daniel for that little setup with Kane the week prior by turning the table on him for the Aberdeen, Washington native to receive his own beatdown from the Big Red Monster. After locking Bryan in the Anaconda Vice and making him tap, Punk added further insult by mocking Bryan with his own new 'YES! YES! YES!' catchphrase._

_That had ALMOST been as satisfying as kicking the ass of that overrated, pompous egomaniacal—and frankly, old—Chris Jericho at both WrestleMania 28 and Extreme Rules; if Punk was a betting man, he'd wager that Jericho would keep his big fat mouth shut about him AND his family for a long, long time._

_While Punk was once a friend of Daniel's, there wasn't a trace of the easy-going, comical buddy that Punk met in Philadelphia 10 years ago in Daniel Bryan now. In his place was an arrogant, egotistical weasel of a jackass, and apparently, one of the worst boyfriends ever, if what he did to AJ was any indication. _

_AJ…now that was another topic that had been on the Second City Savior's mind as of late. She had surprised the hell out of him last week when she wished him good luck before Over the Limit against Bryan. Right away, the situation had made him uncomfortable, and he had no qualms telling her so. Sure, Bryan and Punk weren't exactly on speaking terms lately, and everyone knew that he and AJ were Splitsville, but there was still an ages-old code that Punk abided…the 'bros before hoes' code. Getting close with his ex-friend's ex-girlfriend seemed too weird, and frankly, he didn't need that kind of drama in his life. Besides the fact, while AJ was cute as all hell…Punk had eyes, he knew she was hot…her behavior had become increasingly erratic in the last few weeks, driving the petite Diva even to lash out at her (former?) best friend Kaitlyn. That was enough of a red flag to make Punk want to steer clear of her. Sure, he admitted to himself that his heart went out to her while Bryan had treated her like crap, but he wasn't about to play the White knight superhero card; that was the big green boy scout Cena's MO, not his. Whatever problems AJ was going through, she was a grown woman and she'd have to sort it out like most adults do. But he wasn't about to be dragged into that mess; Punk had other priorities, like keeping his six-month reign as WWE Champion alive._

_Yet, she popped up yet again last night at the PPV, wishing him luck and telling him that his match should be 'fun to watch.' It was becoming apparent to him that AJ wasn't going to go away that easy. And frankly, he didn't know how to feel about that…whether to think it was sweet or…really creepy._

"_Hey, Punk! Punk!" _

_He couldn't help but to cringe a little bit. He was kinda hoping to avoid her tonight. But nonetheless, as he saw no other way out, he decided to acknowledge her presence with a reluctant "Um, uh…hi."_

"_Hi!" she answered in her enthusiastic, chipper voice, a sweet, almost fan-girl-like smile on her face. "Um, I just wanted to tell you something."_

"_You want to tell me that you're completely off your rocker, don't ya?" Punk said half-jokingly as he forced a patient smile on his face._

_He felt a little ashamed of himself when he caught the brief flash of hurt in her pretty brown eyes. To her credit, she managed to brush that aside and flash another brilliant smile at him. "No, um…I-I just wanted say that I, uh…I really enjoyed watching you beat up Daniel Bryan."_

_Punk chuckled, figuring as much. "Oh! So, it's not that you're crazy, it's just that you're…what…sadistic?" He was only kidding around at that point; he couldn't help it. He was blunt, almost to the point of being brutal. He thought it, he said it, that was his way. Sure, he might come across as an asshole to most because of that, but, hey, better that then a liar. Besides, he figured AJ would just come back with a joke of her own or something, she seemed like a sassy little thing from what he saw of her._

_Which was why he was completely taken aback when the smile faded completely, and the tiny Diva began running a shaking, trembling hand through her long brunette locks, panting angrily, trembling and eying him with a look in her eyes that was just plain…well, scary, for a girl that was only just over 5 feet tall._

_What he didn't know was how AJ, inside, was trying to be sincere in her compliments. Even while she was with Bryan, she had harbored a little bit of a crush on Punk since his infamous 'Pipebomb' on the company last summer. His boldness, his daring…and, well, his looks, to be honest…had caught her eye, but she decided not to act on it, as she had other things going on at the time as a girl just trying to make it in the business. But after her relationship with Daniel had exploded all over her face in humiliating and very public fashion, all she wanted to do was find some way to move on. And, well, given that her crush had just beaten up her jerk of an ex-boyfriend, she figured it would be a nice way for her to break the ice between them._

_But instead of a friendly conversation, from AJ's point of view, she was getting the cold shoulder…just like Daniel had given her. And in a way, like Kaitlyn had given her when her old BFF tried to get her to move past her biggest heartache before she was ready. She was at wits end, angry, lonely, hurt and just so very, very tired of having people step all over her. And as she turned to Punk with fire building in her veins, her tiny frame shaking with rage, she was more than ready to give this jerk—who she was only trying to be NICE to—a pipebomb of her own…_

"_Whoa, Whoa, time-out, time out!" a wary Punk warned as he made the 'time-out' symbol with his hands. He was so not in the mood for this right now, to deal with this insane little chick who wanted to go all Kaitlyn on him; and while Punk would never strike a woman, he knew, better than most, that words could be as effective as any kick to the head. "Before you freak out on me, and scratch my eyes out, you know, you HAVE to, that YOU'RE the one whose been acting like a fool this entire time…right?"_

_As she saw his stern, blunt green eyes bore into hers, she couldn't stop the wave of horrible memories from washing over her.. Daniel's cruel, pitiless smile as he humiliated her and dumped her on national television…The fans in the audience—too enamored with that stupid catchphrase of his—chanting 'YES! YES! YES!' while he did it, even as she could feel her heart shatter into a million pieces inside her chest…The hurt look on Kaitlyn's face after AJ had slapped her—both times…The pitying looks from her coworkers in the back, mixed with cruel chuckles and whispers from some her less-than-nice fellow Divas and Superstars…The nights that she had spent crying herself to sleep alone in her hotel room, wishing that this was all just a bad dream…and now, her longtime crush calling her a fool for her actions…_

_And despite her best efforts, there was only so much that a person could take. And then, what was a dry humourless chuckle as she looked away, ashamed, broke down into a sob, followed by pained tears, followed by more of each. _Pleasedon'tcrypleasedontcryAJdon'tlethimseeyoucrydon', _was the frantic thought that ran through her mind, but it only served to further the tears, prolonging her latest humiliation._

_Stunned, Punk was at a loss for words…literally. Mentally, he was kicking himself as he realized the damage that he caused. He didn't mean for it to come out like that; it just sort of…happened. But then, it was that temper of his that often led him into trouble. Like Lita had told him before when they dated, "You know, Punk, you can be a real asshole sometimes." Except the redheaded Diva Legend often gave as good as she got; she was a firecracker, to the point where Punk had kind of enjoyed their verbal sparring. But while he heard AJ was spunky, he realized that he should have been cognizant of the fact that she had just come off a Top 5'er on the Worst Relationships Ever list. She was sad, and miserable and AJ was in NO condition to go tit-for-tat in a battle of wits with the Master of the Pipebomb._

_Clumsily attempting to calm her down—while looking around for help in that hallway that wasn't coming anytime soon—Punk, with a hopeless sigh, gave up on trying to use words, as he stepped closer to the distraught young woman and held out his arms. "Okay…okay, bring it in, c'mere."_

_And despite her previous anger, all AJ wanted at that moment was to be held…by someone, ANYONE. So without another word, she found herself burrowed into his chest, crying her eyes out, her heart out, really._

_Putting his arms around her, stroking her hair as he spoke soothing words to quiet her—"It's okay…everything's going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine…"—Punk couldn't help but to notice how nice her hair smelled. It was like…flowers, but with a hint of…wait, was that bubble-gum flavored shampoo she used? He knew because his own dorky sister, Shaylene, had sometimes used that shampoo when they were growing up in Chicago. Of course, on Shaylene, Punk called her a dork for using it; on AJ, however, it was—well, still dorky, but also kind of…sweet. And strangely…kinda hot._

_Snapping back to reality, Punk realized that she was still crying, and, well, he could only repeat 'Everything's going to be fine' so many times before he'd be forced to make it a new catchphrase…which, somehow, didn't quite seem to sound as catchy as 'Best in the World.' "Okay…AJ, just…everything's…c'mon, just stop crying, everything's going to—"_

_Suddenly, the tiny Diva—self-conscious now and realizing that he was probably getting annoyed with her—pulled back and stared at him, her light brown eyes wide and attentive. _

_It was at that point that Punk felt a little tug of…something…in his chest as he stared down at her. There was a kind of innocence and awe in the way she looked at him, like a girl staring up at her favorite rock star in person. It was…well, damn it all, it was the cutest damn thing he'd seem in a while. And again…strangely…it was really kind of a turn-on. AJ was, after all, a very beautiful young woman. A little crazy, sure, but still…very beautiful._

_With a chuckle, he leaned in closer to her. "You know," he confided to her in a warm voice, yet with a smooth smile that was turning her insides to mush. "I kinda dig crazy chicks."_

_A warm, hopeful smile spread on her lips, as she stared up at him starry-eyed. And somehow, to Punk, that was even more satisfying than it would be in locking both Jericho AND Bryan in the Anaconda Vise. Together. At the same time._

_As he turned to go, he managed to turn the corner, when she caught up with him. "Uh, Punk?"_

_Puzzled, he turned back to her, about to joke if she was about to start crying again, but electing to use tact for once. "What's up?" he replied, as if nothing happened before._

"_Um…sorry about that, back there," she stammered nervously as she wrung her hands, still clearly embarrassed. Of all things, she didn't need the WWE Champion, of all people, thinking she was a basket case. Her rapidly plummeting reputation would only suffer even worse for it. "I…uh, I'm just going through some stuff right now."_

_Punk's mouth turned up sympathetically. "I know. Daniel. You know, in his defense, he wasn't a douchebag when I knew him." With a wry smile, he added. "But maybe he needed time to grow into it; he always was a short little guy."_

_The chuckle she gave him brought an effortless smile to his lips, enjoying the way that her soft laugh sort of…lilted. _

"_I wish I had known that going in before I asked him out," she shook her head, as bad memories of their relationship again surfaced, her smile fading as a sad, pensive look took them over._

_Thinking on his feet, Punk quipped, "He's ALWAYS been short, everyone knows that. You could dangle him from Hornswoggle's keychain, for Christ's sake."_

_Again, her enchanting laugh was his reward, as the two chuckled at the joke. This time, his growling stomach interrupted them. _

"_Hungry?" AJ asked with a shy smile._

"_A little," Punk admitted. "I just lucked out that old Clown Shoes John Laryngitis didn't book me into anything tonight. Still, I'm hungry enough to eat a horse."_

_Her smile faded again, feeling guilty that she had held him up with her own drama. "Oh…well, I-I don't want to hold you up or anything."_

_Maybe it was the moment, maybe it was because she just looked so damn sad and lonely, and so damn cute…hell maybe it was a moment of temporary insanity…but as Punk regarded the small Diva, he felt a really, really bad idea come over him._

"_You're not," he said plainly. " 'Cuz you're coming with me."_

_That surprised her, he could tell, her brown eyes wide in shock. "I…uh, what?"_

"_You're coming with me," he repeated patiently. "There's a cool diner me and a few buddies used to eat at around here when we were working the Indy circuit. Good food…I hear they make a mean cheeseburger."_

_Her smile grew wider at the mention of her favorite fast food meal. "Well, I do like… cheeseburgers," she smiled with a spark of excitement in her eyes. _

So damn cute, _Punk couldn't help himself from thinking. "So I heard. That is, unless you've got a match. I mean, if you're unavailable—"_

"_I'm available!" she chirped up quickly, bringing another grin to Punk's lips as she smiled shyly up at him, her heart filling with hope for the first time in what felt like forever. "I am **unbelievably** available…"_

From there, the rest was history. Punk had some reservations at first about their…well, in hindsight, it was basically their first date. But to his surprise, it had been one of the more interesting dates he had been on in a while. In talking with AJ at that small, nearly-empty diner, he had put the notion of her being crazy to bed.

What he found was that at heart, she was just an energetic, kinda geeky, but sweet and funny girl, who had just become sad, lonely and heartbroken while trying to make sense of things after a bad—no, _very_ bad—breakup.

He could relate. After all, he'd had some pretty bad breakups himself. The breakup with Maria, man, that one stung. Punk would barely leave his hotel room for a month after she dumped him; Colt and Kofi, two of his closest friends, could barely stand to be around him at that time, he was such a pain in the ass at the time, sullen, rude and snappy.

He talked a little about that, of course. In turn, she told him—sometimes through tears—all about Daniel and the horror that their relationship had become after he won that damn World Title. But in between that time, they talked and laughed about everything. Comics, work, movies, favorite old school wrestling matches, old back stories each one had, stupid things their coworkers and friends did. In the diner. In Punk's car. In the hotel lobby. In Punk's room as they talked until nearly dawn. True, there was no sex that date, not even a good night kiss. Just a long, tender hug and a kiss on the cheek from her to him as she left for her room to sleep until the mid afternoon, both high on lack of sleep and one another's presence.

It was one of those rare moments when one human being just connected with another and it just…clicked.

One 'date' soon led to another. And another after that. A few more following. They had started sleeping together about three weeks ago, and Punk was genuinely surprised at the kind of energy that AJ had brought into his bed. True, she wasn't quite as experienced as he was, but what she lacked in experience she made up for in raw passion and surprising stamina, all sinewy muscle and soft, sun-kissed skin, velvety lips and flowing brunette, brown-highlighted hair. So much so that he found his reserves being tested at times, thankful that he was able to keep up, his mind lost in the haze of her moans, screams and her amazing flower and bubble gum scent, until they found themselves sleeping in perfect bliss, utterly spent and satisfied.

Yet while the sex was good…no, mindblowing…there was something so tender and innocent still about AJ that made the chivalrous part of Punk want to protect her. She wasn't like the other women that he had been with. Maria was similar in many ways to AJ, but she never needed protection; she was from Chicago, and she was tougher than her bubbly exterior would lead one to believe. Lita certainly never needed any protection from anything; she was one of the strongest women he'd ever met, inside and out. And Beth? Often Punk found himself needing protection from her whenever they had it out.

As he idly found himself playing with a loose strand of her hair while she lay snuggled in his arms, taking in the brightness of the night stars as she eagerly pointed out a shooting star, he couldn't help but to smile at her.

AJ was different; sure, she was spunky and had an attitude, and there was definitely a fire in her that Punk liked his girls to have; he didn't go for timid little flowers, he wanted someone to challenge him, call him on his crap whenever he was out of line, and AJ was definitely strong enough to do so.

But he could tell that the whole Daniel-AJ thing had scarred her, left some deep wounds in her psyche, and so he felt the need to help her heal those wounds. To replace every harsh word with a soft one, every blow to her self-esteem with a kiss, a gesture to make her feel valued, safe and strong. To undo everything his asshole of an ex-friend did and rebuild the confidence of a very special young lady, both to him and the WWE Universe.

And Punk liked to think that he'd been doing a good job so far. He had noted, with pride, how the spunk and vibrancy in those spirited brown eyes of AJ's slowly began to rekindle, how the bounce in her step had returned, how the dazzle in that amazing smile of hers had begun to sparkle again. He wasn't the only ones who noticed, as coworkers and friends began to accept her back into the fold with open arms—even Kaitlyn, after much prodding and a setup by Punk to get the two longtime friends to talk alone and reconcile—and competing Divas began to take notice of AJ, who started rapidly piling up some wins in her column.

Of course, Punk and AJ agreed to keep their relationship on the down-lo for a while. Punk, after all, now had an enemies list a mile long with his WWE Championship putting him in the crosshairs of every Superstar in the back—including their useless GM John Laurinitis—and AJ, after her last relationship, just wanted to have something of her own to herself for a while, with less prying eyes.

The fact that Punk felt the same way was even more perfect for her. Already in her mind, she couldn't help but to draw comparisons between him and Daniel. Daniel was always putting her down, judging her on every little thing, from what she ate to who she was friends with to even how she dressed and what her hobbies were. Punk was simply content to let her be, and even shared in some of her interests, particularly comics and video games, one of the many ways the two spent 'quality time' together in his hotel room…when they weren't breaking the bedsprings with wild and passionate sex, of course. Daniel was always tense and moody, insecure about his success and his place in the company; Punk was laid back, breezy at times, completely sure of himself and who he was. Sure, he had a temper that he could aim at any given moment, but it was never at her. And the few times they had argued in their fairly new relationship…he would always apologize. And she would always seal it with a kiss…and more often than not, more love-making.

She didn't have to pretend to be anyone else that she wasn't anymore, like she had with Daniel. Punk was willing to sit back and let her be who she really was, to let her show the world the real AJ Lee, all sass and spark and strange sex appeal…a geek goddess, as Kaitlyn affectionately dubbed her. When her brown eyes met his green orbs, she found something that she could never find in Daniel's angry blue eyes…a sense of peace. Of happiness. Both in Punk…and in herself.

The sweetest one, for both of them?

The way that Daniel glared daggers at them whenever he spied the pair holding hands alone in a corner or eating at catering, how he plucked at his beard enviously as they shared a private joke and laughing near gorilla, or how his knuckles clenched white in jilted rage, AJ standing on her tiptoes to capture her new beau's pierced mouth with her own, as the couple shared a tender kiss near the locker room…usually punctuated with the Vegan ex-World Champion angrily knocking over a heavy piece of equipment and yelling at some scrawny stage-hand as he angrily stomped away in jealous fury.

And it never failed to draw the same reaction from either AJ or Punk. They'd stare in confusion at the noise, realize who it was that done it, stare back at each other…and laugh in mirth.

They who laugh last, after all, laughed best.

End…for now…

Hope you liked it, and hope more AJ/Punk fics come up. (We gotta come up with a nickname for this pairing. Crazy Pipebomb? ChickPunk? I dunno, whatever.) Reviews are a pipebomb down John Laurinitis's pants. Peace!


	2. Part 2

Big ups to Lacey, EmilieCW-DXfan0119, Miserlou, RonRon10 and jenny for reviewing. My PEEPS! Just a two, maybe three-shot that I would love to see happen…or for someone else to expound upon in a fic of their own. Lol

**Hard To Handle**

Part 2

By Jean-theGuardian

* * *

**June 10, 2012 - one night before RAW**

**Holiday Inn - Fort Worth, TX**

* * *

John Laurinaitis was in a bad mood.

While on the surface, things appeared to be running smoothly in the new regime of 'People Power,' the truth was far from it. Yes, he had wrenched control of both RAW and Smackdown from COO Triple H and Teddy Long, but his plans to impress the Board of Directors by changing the face of WWE (into his own image, of course) had failed fantastically. The Brock Lesnar experiment—which was supposed to catapult him into superstar status, perhaps worthy of even a seat on the Board of Directors—had blown up in his face, with Lesnar failing to eliminate the company's longtime poster boy John Cena; and then, worst of all, attacking the COO and quitting the company.

And because he gave in to Brock's extortionist contractual demands, Laurinaitis had fallen way out of favor with the Board of Directors, who, days ago, had warned him to start producing more credible results to further the company quickly, or else he would be fired. That ultimatum had left him shaken and panicked; the fact was, being a washed up ex-wrestler with few marketable skills outside of managing a wrestling company left him with few favorable options, and with the enemies he had made in his rise to power, not even TNA would look to bring him in, odds were.

Which is what led him to call in David Otunga and Eve Torres, his two most trusted associates, in for a late-night executive meeting in his Presidential hotel suite. He needed something to pitch to the board, something big. He had to find a way to deflect the heat off of him for a little while. No way could he throw his weight behind pushing Cena; that line was 'played out' and besides, there was no way that Cena would ever side with him after everything that had been said between the two.

As it turned out, though, there was another alternative, as Eve pointed out to him. According to the latest poll on the company's website, when fans were asked who they considered to be the face of the WWE, the results came in as followed:

No. 5- Sheamus (167,345 votes)

No. 4- Daniel Bryan (168,486 votes)

No.3 - Randy Orton (202,657 votes)

No. 2 - John Cena (225,867 votes)

No. 1 - CM Punk (226,997 votes)

Laurinaitis groaned in dismay as he read the results. Of all the men that could possibly replace Cena as the top name in WWE, it had to be…_that_ man. Hate was a strong word…yet not strong enough to describe how Laurinaitis felt about the Chicago-born Superstar and reigning WWE Champion.

He despised Punk. Loathed him. And he knew the feeling was more than mutual from Punk's end, as the self-proclaimed Voice of the Voiceless had taken an endless stream of pot shots and insults at Laurinaitis ever since the infamous July 27, 2011 'Pipebomb' that catapulted Punk into the stratosphere of the WWE and, well, the entire world of sports entertainment/pro wrestling. Punk had even gone so far as to put his hands on the Executive Vice President of Talent Relations and General Manager of both Raw and Smackdown several times; the memory of being hoisted onto Punk's shoulders before the Windy City Savior's knee smashed into his broken and bloodied nose with the Go To Sleep still made his blood pressure skyrocket.

It was disrespectful and unprofessional, in his eyes, and there was no way he could support putting the company's marketing juggernaut behind such a man; he'd sooner fire Punk first.

"That's where your problem lies, sir," Otunga pointed out as he sipped his coffee from his metallic thermos, decked out in his typical sweater vest and khaki pants. "You can't fire CM Punk. As the figures indicate, he's one of the top money-makers for the company since last summer. He's crossing demographics and getting universal support from our fan base. He's pulling people in, sir. The Board of Directors would never agree to letting him go."

"I don't care how popular he is, David, I'll never agree to it!" snapped Laurinaitis. "Ever since last year, he's been nothing but mean to me. He's rude, he's disrespectful, he's arrogant, he's—"

"He's a money-maker, John," Eve interjected, as she sat across from the two men, cross-legged, wearing glasses and a black and white business blazer and skirt that revealed the leggy Diva's best assets. "And let's face facts, that's what you need right now. A cash-cow who can pull the wagon and we can milk for all its worth. If you don't start showing the board something soon, it could be your job—all of our jobs."

Truth be told, Eve didn't have a problem with Punk. In fact, she had to admit, she was starting to see what Maria, Mickie James, Kelly Kelly and even Beth Phoenix had been talking about when it came to the brazen, ruggedly good-looking, straight-shooting Second City Saint. Normally, Eve didn't go for guys with piercings and tattoos, but Punk had that certain _je-nais-sias-quoi_ appeal that drew women in. That certain…something that made Eve wonder just what it would be like to see his, er, _pipebomb_, up close and personal.

Though frankly, she couldn't understand what he was doing wasting his time with a mousy little ring rat like AJ; she had managed to hear whispers and rumors of the WWE Champion's involvement with the petite sparkplug Diva, which a scorned and jealous Daniel Bryan confirmed to her recently. The news made her want to gag, and she couldn't help but to glare somewhat enviously at AJ in the hallways since then.

For the life of her, Eve just could not understand in the least what a man as attractive and with as much going for him as the current WWE Champion would see in a skinny little nothing like AJ…when he could be with a real woman, like herself; someone that could satisfy him like no other. Besides, it wasn't all that long ago that the little freak was all broken up over Daniel Bryan, so how did she manage to score the most eligible bachelor on the WWE roster?

It was at that moment that she had an idea…a wicked idea that sprang from the depths of her devious mind. Perhaps a way to both please her boss…and maybe get something out of it herself—namely, landing the big fish that was the WWE Champ all for herself.

"I don't care how marketable he is, for the last time!" Laurinaitis argued with Otunga, who kept pointing to the demographic poll numbers in his hand. "There's no way it'll happen. He's uncontrollable, he's a maverick, he's a loose cannon, he's—"

"He's dating AJ," she interrupted, nonchalantly, drawing surprised glances from both men.

Confused, as usual, Laurinaitis looked at her in bafflement. "What? What the hell do I care who that misfit is dating? How the hell is that going to solve my problem?"

"With all due respect, sir, you're not thinking this through," she argued her point. "Part of the reason Punk's been so hard to get under is because of his lone wolf persona. He doesn't care, he's the Rebel with a Cause, the guy who dances to the beat of his own drum…at least, that's what he wants everyone to believe."

"But if there's one thing his issues with Chris Jericho taught us, it's that, like all heroes, or even anti-heroes, there are people in Punk's life that he cares for, correct? People close to his heart," she said, smiling knowingly as she could tell that she had her boss's undivided attention. "That leaves him vulnerable. Throws him off his game. And, lo and behold, Punk's significant other just happens to be a talent under WWE contract. Someone who's place in the company isn't quite as solidified as his own…someone few would miss if she were to, say, get fired? Therein lies his weakness."

Otunga smirked as he caught on. "We get to Punk through the girl. That's brilliant, actually. If he doesn't want to play ball with us…"

"…then we make him play ball, by ransoming poor little AJ's career," Eve smirked back, cruelly. "How reluctant will he be to be our puppet if he knows that the career of someone he cares for, maybe even loves, is on the line?"

Laurinaitis frowned for a moment. "Wait, but…AJ is our new Divas Champion."

Eve frowned at that. AJ had only recently won the title that was once hers by beating both Layla and Beth Phoenix in a triple threat match; AJ was inserted as a last minute substitution when Kelly Kelly injured her ankle, but if Eve had known about the Geek Goddess's relationship with Punk, she would have never agreed to subbing her into that match. Still, Eve was not a woman to let little things like that stop her from getting what she wanted.

"Who cares?" Eve exclaimed. "Sure, she's the champion, and she's all 'cute' and the fans are starting to love her, but she's not exactly Trish Stratus or Lita. Well, not yet, anyway. She's still replaceable, and as long as we can hold that over Punk's head, we can make him do whatever we want. It's a 'can't-lose' for us."

For the longest time, Laurinaitis seemed to ponder Eve's idea…and then his beady blue eyes glinted in approval. "Eve, I love the way you think. We'll call them out on RAW tomorrow night."

The devious smile that spread on Laurinaitis's face was met with similarly wicked grins from his associates. "Because, to quote another famous Chicago icon, I'm about to make CM Punk an offer…he can't refuse."

Inwardly, Eve rolled her eyes. _That's Don Corleone and he was from New York, you idiot. God, Punk's right; you really are clueless._

* * *

**The Same Time - Ray's Bar and Diner, ,Fort Worth, Texas**

* * *

_As I sit in this smokey room  
The night about to end  
I pass my time with strangers  
But this bottle's my only friend_

For AJ Lee, life was perfect. Hard to believe that only two months ago, she was stuck in her hotel room, crying her eyes out as a broken-hearted, half-crazy mess of a girl that was stuck on a guy who was a total loser. Now, the newly crowned Divas Champion was sighing in perfect contentment, eyes closed in bliss, as she rested her head on the solid chest of a guy that she once thought would never notice her…and ended up being maybe the best thing that ever happened to her.

_Remember when we used to park  
On Butler Street out in the dark?  
Remember when we lost the keys  
And you lost more than that in my backseat, baby_

"Whatcha thinkin'?" Punk inquired gently as his arms folded around her small waist while they slowly danced to the music of Bon Jovi playing from the jukebox.

Eyes still closed, she answered in a contented sigh, "That I wish life could always be this good."

Punk chuckled, amused by her answer. "Yeah, well, but then it'd get all boring. Like…Stepford Wives boring or something."

Her chuckle echoed in his chest. "Right. I forgot. You're Mister Chaos, can't be happy without an explosion going around somewhere."

"Pipebomb, sweetie, I prefer pipebomb," he joked lightly.

"Right…pipebomb," she laughed as she snuggled into his chest, both of them swaying gently to the music of the '80s classic. "Haven't heard you drop any major pipebombs lately, though. Everything's looking pretty quiet on the Western Front as far as challengers for your title."

"I'm CM Punk, babe. People know by now not to fuck with me," he quipped again, which drew another chuckle from AJ as she shook her head, neither of them breaking contact. Suddenly, in deep thought, Punk frowned. "That's what worries me, I guess."

"Huh?"

"It's been quiet. Too quiet. And yet, I've got this wired rumbling down in my gut. Whenever I've had that rumble…something big happens. It's the same feeling I got before I won my first Money in the Bank. Before my first World Title. Before June 27 last year. And beating Cena for the WWE title. Whenever I get that feeling…things change."

AJ shrugged, despite the nerves she felt at the wary tone in her boyfriend's voice. By now, she had learned to trust his judgment, him being a savvy ring veteran for more than a decade. "Yeah, but…not all change is bad, right?"

"Not always," he agreed, deciding to drop the subject so as to not worry AJ anymore. Looking down at her concerned brown eyes, he couldn't contain his smile. "I could think of some changes that are pretty damn good."

_Remember when we used to talk  
About busting out, we'd break their hearts  
Together… forever…_

She smiled coyly at him, batting her eyes exaggeratedly. "Why Mr. Punk, are you trying to seduce the Divas Champion?"

"Is it working?" Punk inquired with a playful grin.

"I'll let you be the judge of that," AJ smiled in a low, throaty voice as she reached up and guided Punk's face to hers, both of them laughing softly as their lips met…

_Never say goodbye, never say goodbye  
You and me and my old friends  
Hoping it would never end  
Never say goodbye, never say goodbye  
Holdin on, we've got to try  
Holdin on to never say goodbye_

"Oy, fellas, are we interruptin'?" boomed a boisterous, Irish brogue, followed by a giant, powerful slap on the back that rocked Punk as he let go of AJ in his surprise. As he turned, he found himself and AJ being playfully greeted by none other than the World Heavyweight Champion Sheamus, who had his arms around both their shoulders.

Just behind him were Layla, Kaitlyn, Kofi Kingston and Zack Ryder, their friends/coworkers, just having arrived at the bar.

Sighing in frustration at his moment with his girlfriend being cut short, Punk managed to force a grin on his face. "Hey guys," he sighed. To Sheamus. "So, what exactly is your Irish Curse again, big guy…cock-blocking?"

Sheamus laughed it off. "Sorry, Punk, but I wouldn't fret. You'll probably have plenty of time to show the wee lass here yer 'Pipe Bomb' later."

Off AJ's blush, the group immediately broke out into laughter, while Kaitlyn mouthed 'sorry' to her BFF. Punk could only grimace. He loved his friends…but sometimes, he kinda wanted them dead.

It wasn't long before the group began to mingle among themselves. Kaitlyn and AJ were, naturally, a couple of chatter boxes as they talked about everything under the sun, while Layla had a dance on the floor with Zack, leaving Kofi, Sheamus and Punk to shoot some pool.

"So, Punkers," Sheamus said as he idly stood by, watching as Punk focused on his shot. "You seem a might happier, as of late."

"I'll be happier when I'm owning the five bucks you'll owe me after I make this shot," Punk smoothly returned, as he returned his focus to the shot. _Crack_. Corner pocket. "_Ooh_, and that's one Mr. Abe Lincoln from the big guy that I'm owed!"

"Yeah, nice," Sheamus ruefully agreed as he handed him a five-spot. "Nah, seriously, it's like you have a little extra pep in yer step now, lad. Whadaya think, Kofi? Does our boy have a little extra spring in his stride?"

"Well, now that you mention it," Kofi replied with a smile, "Punk does seem to be a little more chipper. What's your secret, Phil? You showing AJ who's the Best in the World in the sack?"

_Remember days of skipping school  
Racing cars and being cool  
With a six pack and the radio  
We didn't need no place to go_

Off their laughter, Punk 'accidentally' smacked the end of his pool cue into Kofi's stomach.

"Cute, guys, real mature." He shrugged, but couldn't help but to smile a little bit as he glanced over at AJ, who was darting glances in between her friends and him, flashing him that secret smile of hers that sent a fuzzy feeling shooting down his toes. "I'll admit, she's taken a lot of the edge off, lately. She's…soothing."

"Soothing? Like a bubble bath?" Sheamus snickered.

"I wasn't aware Irish knew what baths were," Punk snarked, earning his a slap upside the head from the Celtic Warrior. "Pipe Bomb," the Chicago native quipped, before he missed his shot, putting Kofi up next. "Nah, man, it's like…she's just been great, you know? She's funny, we're into a lot of the same stuff, she's sweet…I haven't been with a chick like that in, like, ever."

_Remember at the prom that night  
You and me we had a fight  
But the band they played our favorite song  
And I held you in my arms so strong_

"Good to know, man," Kofi nodded in approval, as he sunk in his ball in the side pocket. "I was worried about that girl. D-Bry messed her up but bad."

Punk frowned as he thought back to those days. Yeah, he remembered well what AJ was like back then—frantic, crazed, angry. It had seemed like a lifetime ago, though; it took a lot of time, a lot of care and attentiveness, and quite a few orgasms, but it finally seemed like the memory of Daniel Bryan was finally erased from AJ's life for good.

"You know me, Kofi, I take good care of my women," Punk smirked in a cocky sort of way. The smirk faded when he caught Kofi and Sheamus exchanged troubled stares with one another.

"Yeah, good policy to have," Sheamus said somewhat cautiously. "Hope you remember it."

Punk's face immediately creased into a concerned frown. "Sorry guys, you're not being cryptic enough. Care to clue me in on what that's supposed to mean?"

Looking around to make sure that no eavesdropping ears were around, Kofi elaborated. "Word round the company is, Laurinaitis has it out for you."

Punk laughed, dryly. What else was new? He'd been aware of that brownnosing douchebag having him in his crosshairs for some time now. After all, Punk had been more than a little vocal in how he felt about WWE's incompetent head of Talent Relations. "So? Old Clown Shoes always has his panties in a twist about me, big deal."

"It's not that simple anymore, fella," Sheamus shook his head as he explained. "Before, it was different, ya had that whole loner mystique rebel thing ye had workin' fer ya. And now, well…there's that wee lass you have ta consider."

"AJ?" Punk asked, more alert and concerned. "What _about_ her? She's got nothing to do with Urine-aitis and me."

"And how much did your family have to do with Jericho's little obsession with you a few months ago?" Kofi questioned. "This place is a shark tank, Punk, you know that. When it comes to the WWE Title, no rules, nothing's sacred to a lot of these guys. And a guy like Laurinaitis? He might be a dumbass, but he's still a shark, and he sees a sweet little thing like AJ hanging on your arm? _Tchh_, blood in the water, man."

The frown on Punk's face became even more sour at the thought. He had considered this scenario a while ago, which is why he and AJ had agreed to keep their new romance quiet for a while. Punk was no fool; he knew damn well after 6 years in the company what happened when opponents got wind of a weak spot in the champion's armor. They went after it like rabid dogs. Hell, he had done it himself a few times. The idea of someone as unscrupulous as Laurinaitis getting wind that Punk's new girl was on the roster was…troubling, to say the least. And it was something that Punk was not going to allow on his watch.

"If that idiot has any common sense whatsoever, he'll stay as far away as possible from AJ," Punk ground out as he squeezed his pool cue hard, so hard that the wood was actually starting to creak a little. "If he even thinks about using her to get to me, I'll force-feed him his own nuts."

"Easy, man, easy," Kofi tried to calm him down, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Look, man. We're just telling you what we heard. Word's starting to buzz that he's up to something; what, I don't know. But the way I hear it, the Board of Directors is pretty close to canning him unless he comes up with something. And well, let's face it, the WWE Title is as big as it gets, my friend."

Punk shook his head, ruefully. The title. Of course it was about the title. It was the one thing that goofy, two-faced moron Laurinaitis hadn't been able to take in the last 8 months; controlling it would make his hold over RAW, and possibly even the company, complete. Another thing that Punk wasn't going to let happen under his watch; he worked too damn hard to shake things up only to have Latingitis screw it all up again.

"Just watch yer back, boy-o," Sheamus shrugged. "Figured we'd give you a heads-up, and all. As World Heavyweight Champion, I hear stuff every now and then. I'll keep my ear to the ground, see if I can find out what our not-so-esteemed GM is up to."

Punk gave an appreciative nod to the Dublin-born Superstar. "I owe you one, big man. You're a good friend."

"Don't mention it," Sheamus grinned for a moment before offering him a serious look. "But just be sure of what you plan to do. She's yer weak spot, fella. It's pretty obvious that you've got a soft spot fer the girl. For the hell you're about to invite on yerself, you'd better be sure she's worth it."

Punk knew that his Irish friend's words were not for naught. He'd seen that slimy little sycophant Laurinaitis weasel his way out of tight spots before, even when it was all but certain that he would finally be ousted from power. The Prince of Pipe Bombs knew that scumbag well enough to know that if controlling the WWE Title meant saving his miserable job, he'd throw everything and the kitchen sink at Punk in order to take it. Which meant that he could ill-afford to have any chinks in his armor as he prepared for that battle.

But, that's the thing about people you care about. They ended up leaving chinks anyway. Left you vulnerable, specifically in the heart. That left Punk having to face the fact that whatever was coming, AJ was going to undoubtedly be dragged into this power struggle between him and Laurinaitis, which meant that she was going to be in harm's way. Would it really be fair to her if she got dragged into that mess all because he had a beef with his boss? But what was the alternative, break up with her? Since she came into his life, Punk had found it comforting how she had filled a hole in his life, how her mere presence was a welcome and soothing escape from the chaos that surrounded him night in and night out in the squared circle and backstage. How a simple word or a kiss or even the brush of her hand could pump him up or calm him down when he needed it.

Was keeping that worth the storm that his asshole boss had brewing for him just beyond the horizon?

_We danced so close  
We danced so slow  
And I swore I'd never let you go  
Together…forever_

As he caught her gaze wandering again towards him, flashing him that pretty smile and adoring gaze, Punk felt something else come up in him aside from a smile…resolve. If there was a fight coming, well, it wouldn't be the first one he ever had. But no matter what, he swore to himself that he would find a way to keep AJ safe. That, he vowed.

"Yeah, Sheamus," he replied, with no doubt in his mind as his eyes never left her. "She is."

_Never say goodbye, never say goodbye  
You and me and my old friends  
Hoping it would never end  
Never say goodbye, never say goodbye  
Holdin' on, we got to try  
Holdin' on to never say goodbye_

* * *

TBC…

* * *

I'm thinking about wrapping it up with the next chapter, but I might be tempted to make it into a full-blown story depending on the response I get. What do you guys think? Should I go for it?

Later!

-Jean-theGuardian


	3. Part 3

A/N : Well, gotta say, after this Monday's RAW and Smackdown, and the whole Twitter thing before, this couple is SERIOUSLY becoming addictive! Plus, they have a new 'I Dig Crazy Chicks' shirt for Punk that I just might consider getting.

Thanks to TellTale777, Tiffy G1, wingster, max, RonRon10,dusTSkies, Lok2685, EmilieCW-DXfan0119, Miserlou, Rikki18, Katie and Kimberly 316 for their reviews. You guys are…the…BEST IN THE WOOOOORRRLD! Lol

Reviews are fuel to the fire—and this fire burns….Alllllwaaaays… lol

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 3**

* * *

**RAW-the next night**

**Fort Worth, Texas**

* * *

As AJ came through the curtain, proudly carrying her Divas title, a smile a mile wide on her face and beads of perspiration lightly dampening her forehead, it had barely been two seconds before she was greeted with ecstatic hi-fives and hugs from Kaitlyn and Layla.

The Geek Goddess had just come off defeating Natalya in a singles match-up, which was a big personal win for AJ as she had never beaten the third-generation Canadian grappler.

"That was so great!" gushed Kaitlyn, praising her longtime friend.

Panting from the grueling physical contest that the technically savvy Diva had put her through, AJ still could not contain her excitement. "Thanks, K…wow, she really…put me through…the wringer."

"You were awesome out there, AJ, congratulations!" Layla beamed as she wrapped up AJ in a hug.

Despite the ache in her lower back from fighting out of Natalya's sharpshooter, the tiny sparkplug Diva still felt positively giddy. The new Divas Champion had been on a major tear as of late, winning match after match against some of the WWE's fiercest Divas. Even Michael Cole begrudgingly agreed that AJ was on "the roll of a lifetime."

For a moment, emotion threatened to overwhelm her as she savored the moment. Ever since she was a little girl, AJ had dreamed of this day, when she would be considered among the elite of WWE's females, the way that her heroes such as Lita, Trish Stratus and Chyna were before her. Now that day had come, and she still could barely believe that it wasn't a dream.

"Thanks so much, guys," she said through heavy puffs of breath, her face starting to ache from the smile that refused to go away. "This was such a tough match, and I…"

Her smile faded as she saw the looks of elation from her friends fade at the sight of someone behind her. Puzzled, AJ turned around and almost recoiled in surprise at the unexpected sight of…Eve Torres.

"AJ," the taller woman greeted with a smile that AJ immediately pegged as phony, which got her guard up.

She hadn't really spoken to Eve much since AJ arrived on the roster last year, but after watching her antics in the last several months, the petite Diva had no reason to want to do so. Zack Ryder was a friend of hers, and the hurtful way Eve had used him and broken his heart had offended AJ on his behalf.

"Congratulations on your victory," Eve continued in a brisk professional voice.

"Uh…thanks," was all a cautious AJ offered in reply.

A small snort escaped from Eve's lips, and AJ wasn't sure, but it almost felt like there was a little disdain in the Executive Administrator's otherwise pretty brown eyes. "I hope you don't have any immediate plans right now. Mr. Laurinaitis wants to see you in the ring later tonight during the final segment of the show," Eve said primly.

That caught AJ off guard. Why would John Laurinaitis, of all people, want to see her in the ring to close out RAW? She had only ever spoken to him once, during her entry interview that landed her a gig in WWE. Of course, that was before Laurinaitis's power plays that revealed him to AJ—and the world—as a power-hungry corporate leech. The way he had treated Punk, especially, and most of her friends had rubbed AJ the wrong way.

"See me? Why?" AJ asked in obvious confusion. "And why in public?"

"Didn't say," was Eve's cryptic reply, though something in the all-too-casual tone that her voice took on put AJ's instincts on alert. She was still a rookie Diva, true, but she had been doing this long enough to know when people in the business were up to something. "All I was told was to give you the message. Something about…discussing the future of the WWE. "

The word "future" in relation to John Laurinaitis were never good, AJ had come to realize that. Usually it was associated with the dreaded seven-word kiss off of death: "Best of luck in your future endeavors."

Before AJ could inquire as to what that meant, Eve added, "So, if I were you, I would make sure that I'm present for that meeting. It could be pretty key to _your_ future, as well." Halting after two steps, Eve spun around and let her eyes condescendingly rake over AJ. "Oh, and speaking of future, sweetie, as the Divas Champion, you might want to think about making your wardrobe a touch more…mature for the future."

AJ felt a sharp spark of anger rip through her gut at that, hearing the audible scoffing of an offended Kaitlyn and Layla.

"Excuse me?" came the question from AJ's lips, laced with a hint of challenge. She wasn't oblivious; she had known for some time what some of the 'model types' of the WWE had thought of her attire since she debuted in the company.

"You heard me," Eve smirked. "That title you have on your shoulder has been worn proudly by great women in this business. Trish Stratus. Lita. Mickie James. Melina. Beth Phoenix. Michelle McCool…" She stopped to preen for a moment in self-satisfaction. "…and of course, the greatest of them, being _me_."

The way she flaunted that made AJ roll her eyes in disgust. She had remembered Eve's two Divas title reigns, and quite frankly, neither one were particularly memorable. She was certainly no Beth Phoenix or Michelle McCool…hell, even Maryse had a more memorable stint as Divas Champion than Eve.

"And the legacy," Eve added haughtily, "that was crafted for that title was meant to encompass the spirit of Divas: smart, powerful and sexy." She sent another disdainful look at AJ's wardrobe. "Dressing like you're shopping from the teen's section of The Gap doesn't exactly fall into the definition of the word 'sexy' or 'Diva.'"

AJ pursed her lips together angrily, but instead offered a sarcastic smile. "Right. Of course. Remind me again, when was the last time you were Divas Champion? Because for the life of me, and I've been watching a lot of the Divas matches over the years…I can't really recall the last time you set foot in a ring. But then again, I guess if Beth Phoenix kicked my ass as many times as she kicked yours last year, hey, I might have considered switching careers to being a secretary, too."

Eve's smirk fell from her face as an annoyed glare replaced it, AJ silently delighting in the suddenly stiff posture that the former Divas Champion took on. The situation wasn't diffused any by the none-too-quiet snicker from Layla and Kaitlyn's amused whispering of "Oh, snap, she didn't!"

But AJ, now donning a smirk of her own, wasn't done yet. "Oh, and as far as my wardrobe goes, you're probably right. I mean I guess my stuff is a little…spunky, I guess?…but hey, it beats walking around looking like a low-rent Jessica Rabbit. Not that I'm trying to insinuate anything, of course."

Eve's nostrils flared, outraged at the smaller Diva's well-placed insults. But gathering her composure, she stood up straighter, as to tower over AJ, who stared back with a coy smile, not in the least intimidated.

The question Eve had been pondering for several days now was rapidly becoming an infuriating puzzle that she simply could not wrap her head around to solve. She had been in the company for 4 years and while she had earned two Divas titles, she had never earned the kind of attention that AJ had been receiving as of late; now, this mouthy little tramp was walking around with _her_ title and _her_ not-boyfriend, while earning more and more of the spotlight and the fans respect and admiration every minute. What the hell did this little comic book nerd have that Eve didn't?

Her tongue pushing on the inside of her mouth, Eve nodded in some amusement. "Well, look at you. Just a few months ago, you would have given Victoria a run for her money in the Psycho Department. One championship, a couple of wins and a hot little boyfriend later, and you think you've turned into Trish Stratus."

The words "hot little boyfriend" drew AJ's attention almost immediately. She wasn't aware that Eve knew about her and Punk. She had been trying to limit that knowledge as much as possible, and she certainly hadn't gone around advertising it. But, she realized in dismay, with the kisses they've been stealing in the halls as of late, it wasn't too far fetched that someone would have spotted them, which was how it must have gotten back to Eve's ears.

And somehow, the way the words describing her boyfriend came from Eve's lips brought out this odd urge within AJ to slap the mascara right off the former model's face.

"I'm far from being Trish, Eve," AJ coolly replied. "But one thing you'll learn about me is that while I'm a pretty nice person, if I'm pushed…I'm not above pushing back."

The tension between the two women was palpable for a moment, before Eve shook her head. "Just be ready to go in an hour. And don't be late," Eve sneered before turning on her heels and leaving.

All AJ could do was shake her head. It was kind of funny to her how Eve was flinging accusations of her becoming arrogant due to her recent good fortune, when Eve herself had completely let power and fame go to her head and become her obsession at the expense of Zack and people who were once her friends. _Pot? Kettle. Have we met?_

Layla gave a dry chuckle once the coast was clear. "Well, luv, have to say that was…well, unpleasant."

"So is she," AJ shrugged, with a tiny smirk.

Kaitlyn quirked an eyebrow, impressed. "I believe your boyfriend would refer to that as a…what's the word, Layla?"

The former Miami Heat dancer smirked. "Gee, I think that word was, something like…"

Simultaneously, both Kaitlyn and Layla exclaimed, "_Pipe bomb_!"

AJ couldn't help but laugh as the three began to giggle. God, she missed this. The whole Daniel Bryan thing had made her cut herself off from practically everyone a few months back; now she was back to being her old self again, laughing and joking around with her friends just like a normal person.

"Well, I guess that was kinda pipebomb worthy, wasn't it?" AJ smiled, kinda proud of herself.

"No kidding," Layla nodded in approval. "It looks like that crazy boyfriend of yours is starting to rub off on you."

At that, Kaitlyn gave her BFF a slightly worried glance. "AJ, seriously…be careful around her. Ever since Eve got that promotion, she's let it all go to her head. I've seen ice sculptures less cold-hearted than her. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

AJ nodded, but put on a breezy smile. "Oh, come on, Kaitlyn, you know I'm not scared of Eve. I mean, yeah, she was a great wrestler, but it's not exactly like we see her in the ring anymore these days."

"Well, how can she? It'd be impossible for her to see with her head so far rammed up 'Big Johnny's' ass," Layla ribbed, drawing chuckles from everyone.

After a beat, Kaitlyn sobered up with the question on everyone's minds. "But seriously…why would Laurinaitis want to see you in public? And at the end of the show, no less?"

The thought made AJ frown in deep worry. "I…I have no idea."

At that, the corner of Layla's mouth turned to the side, a knowing look on her face. "Actually…I might."

Off AJ's and Kaitlyn's surprised looks, Layla elaborated. "I have some friends around here up top. I hear things. Word has it, that Laurinaitis's days here might be numbered unless he starts earning points with the Board of Directors. My guess is that whatever his next move is, it's going to involve the WWE Title." To AJ. "I believe that's your honey's favorite little trinket, isn't it?"

"Punk?" AJ's expressive brown eyes widened slightly in concern. "But what would that have to do with _me_?"

"Didn't you hear?" Off AJ's headshake answer for 'No,' Layla cautiously explained. "Punk got a similar message earlier tonight after he won his match against The Miz. Laurinaitis wants him in the ring at the same time tonight. I don't wager there's a coincidence."

At Layla's revelation, AJ's mind was reeling. She didn't know about that; she was too busy warming up with Kaitlyn and preparing for her match with Natalya, so she didn't have time to watch her boyfriend in action. Besides, she figured at the time, at the rate Miz was sliding further into the loss column, AJ knew that the loudmouthed Cleveland native was no match for Punk, who was at the top of his game right now. She only gave him a quick kiss for luck before he headed down to gorilla to await the start of his match.

"And what was that crack about your 'hot little boyfriend?' Anyone else catch that?" Kaitlyn noted, suspiciously.

At once, it started to click in AJ's mind; after all, this hadn't been the first time her presence around a world title had been a focal point of things.

"Omigod…it's me," she muttered in sickening realization. "They're going to try to use me to get to Punk somehow."

At that, Kaitlyn and the British-born Diva exchanged looks of concern, which weren't unnoticed by AJ. "What? What's with the looks, guys?"

While Kaitlyn was hesitant to bring this up, she knew that this subject had to be addressed. After all, she remembered—vividly and painfully—what happened the last time AJ's name was floated around a major championship in the company, and Kaitlyn had promised herself after she reconciled with her best friend that there was no way she would ever let a title come between them again.

"AJ, honey, look…I just want you to be careful out there, okay?" Kaitlyn relented. "I mean, I remember what happened that last time with…with Daniel, and I just don't want you to get in over your head again—"

"This isn't like with Daniel, K," AJ interrupted, almost defensively, as bad memories of her ex from hell came bubbling back up to the surface. "It can't be. Punk…_Phil_…is different. Hell, he still doesn't want me hanging around ringside during his matches, not after I tried it the first few times. Daniel, on the other hand, practically dragged me to each of his matches. Punk's not like that—"

"I know, sweetie, I know," Kaitlyn amended. "You're right about Punk; he's not like Daniel, and that's a good thing. But I remember how badly things ended when you got caught in the middle of a tug-of-war over a stupid title belt, and…honey, I just don't want to see you get hurt like that again."

"Neither of us do," Layla added, sincerely. She, too, had remembered how badly the rookie Diva had suffered thanks to that lowlife Daniel Bryan, and she was also more than a little concerned about her new friend heading into what could potentially be a very dangerous situation for her.

Off the caring yet wary glances of her friends, AJ felt the unease start to bubble in her stomach. Things with Punk had been going great thus far; better than great. She had fallen hard for the Straight Edge Superstar and after they had established a few ground rules (particularly about her wandering near his matches) she found that they had reached a kind of balance within their fledgling relationship that allowed them to have fun and be a regular, loving couple outside the ring while keeping their professional lives separate. It had been going so well…_and now this_.

She knew she couldn't very well refuse an order from a man who was technically her boss, but she didn't want to get in the way of Punk's business. Plus, she remembered full well how getting caught in the crossfire of a championship struggle had a devastating effect on her mental well-being. She didn't ever want to go back to being _that_ AJ, the angry, crazy girl that attacked her friends and couldn't stop crying or being angry or miserable.

Shaking herself from that chain of thought, AJ gave her friends an assuring smile. "Relax, guys, I'll be fine," she said. "Look, I know what you're thinking. But I promise you, Psycho AJ has left the building, and she's not coming back anytime soon. I mean, I have you guys now…and Punk won't let this kind of thing get between us." Swatting away the brief feeling of unease, her smile never wavered. "It'll…it'll be fine. I, uh…I think I'm gonna go find Punk and talk about this a little, okay?"

Despite her own unease, Kaitlyn nodded. "Good luck hug?"

Off her request, AJ smiled, and gave her best friend a hug, before giving a similar one to Layla before she pulled on a CM Punk T-shirt—reading 'I Dig Crazy Chicks'—turned and headed down the hall towards her boyfriend's dressing room.

The feeling of worry for her friend still gnawed at Kaitlyn's gut; AJ had come such a long way after all that craziness earlier this year. She couldn't lose her again. She couldn't take that twice.

As if reading her mind, Layla placed a comforting hand on the blonde's arm. "Hey," she said with a reassuring smile. "She'll be fine. She's a tough girl; you know that better than anyone."

A worried sigh escaped Kaitlyn's lips as she watched AJ's small figure disappear around the corner. "I hope you're right, Lay. God, I hope you're right."

* * *

Even while he was talking with Dolph Ziggler—who was prattling on and on about how much better he was than Jack Swagger and why he should be off doing his thing solo again—Daniel Bryan's blue eyes narrowed at the small fleeting figure of his ex-girlfriend breezily passing him by, not so much as a glance thrown his way.

The Washington State native couldn't help but feel a burning in his gut from the jealousy he felt as he caught sight of the T-shirt she had thrown on—_I Dig Crazy Chicks_.

Never had four words caused him such ulcer-inducing anger.

By now, even though he tried not to, he had watched the infamous footage from the RAW where Punk had confided that to his then-broken-mess-of-an-ex-girlfriend about 257 times. Two hundred and fifty-seven. And each time, it never failed to twist in his gut like a knife.

He had long admitted to himself that he never loved AJ when they had dated; yeah, he liked her, and she was cute, and he was, frankly, lonely and bored, so she was…convenient. And, he had to admit with a rueful smile, she was quite a handful in the bed. Easily one of the best lays he ever had…although, he didn't have many to the list until he came to the WWE two years ago.

He had grown to like AJ at times, he really did…he just didn't love her. And after he became World Champion for the first time, well, nothing else in his life took precedence over keeping that belt around his waist; it was the validation of his decade-plus of work and struggles on the road with the indy circuit, in OVW, in ROH, everywhere just to get to the WWE. It was his chance to stick it to the Michael Coles and the critics everywhere who—at times, still—said that he was a joke, that he wasn't good enough to make it in the big time. Finally, he could throw it back in all of their faces.

But as the challengers grew, both in size and numbers, as he found himself needing that extra edge to keep that belt around his waist as long as possible, he had realized that he had one crucial advantage…AJ. Sweet, well-trained, innocent little AJ, well-liked by everyone—she was the perfect weapon. A pocket rocket that he could unleash at his foes, blinding them to him while he snuck in for win after win.

Even though he admitted to himself that he had treated her quite poorly when they were together, it had made sense back then. Small sacrifices for holding on to the pinnacle of his achievements in the wrestling world. In the days leading up to Wrestlemania, he had decided that he would try to see if he could make things better between himself and AJ. She had, after all, been a major factor in his holding on to the belt in his rise to fame; and, well, she was starting to grow on him as she was so damn adorable at times.

But then that damn Brogue Kick from Sheamus hit him after he requested a good luck kiss from her, and 18 seconds later, 13 years and four months of hard work were flushed down the drain. The clock had struck midnight on his dream, and his crowning moment was now the punch line for all of his detractors. He had not taken it well, and he singled out one person for his failures…AJ.

In his eyes, she had made him look like a fool on the biggest stage of the wrestling world. And so, he had taken delight at the time not only to dump her, but to embarrass and belittle her. It was all too easy, too. She was like a puppy that kept coming back for a hug no matter how many times she got kicked in the side by her master. And that's what he was at the time: her master. He knew it, and he kind of enjoyed it. He had never had that kind of power over another person before—he knew himself that he wasn't the most attractive guy on the roster—and it gave him an odd kind of rush to know that this pretty little thing was willing to do anything for him. She was kind of like chocolate ice cream; she would always be there, he was beginning to think.

And then…_**Punk**_. That damn backstabbing ex-friend of his came into the picture, with his damn tattoos and his jokes and his slick-back hair and the 'I-don't-give-a-fuck' state of mind that he had become famous for. Even while they were growing up in the indy circuit together, it was always Punk that was the golden child. Oh sure, Daniel had his success, but Punk was a legend. And with the chicks that came to the shows, they had always, _always_ flocked to Punk—and they were lookers, too—leaving Daniel to settle for whatever castoffs Punk had tried to set him up with. Not that they were bad looking, Daniel admitted, but still…why didn't he have the same luxury of being able to pick and choose the ladies, while Punk was the chick magnet?

And now, just like always, Punk had come in and taken another girl from him; and one that Daniel had first, damn it! And each time Daniel had seen the way she looked at his old buddy lately with those sweet, adoring puppy dog eyes of her—the way she used to look at _him_—it really stuck in his gut and pissed him off to no end.

How could she cast him away just like that…like he was nothing to her anymore? And worst of all, to lose her to _Punk_? To the 'buddy' who had always overshadowed him and was walking around with the WWE championship that should belong to him, chosen for the WWE '13 video game cover that should have rightfully been _his_, and the girl that once worshipped the ground he walked on now kissing Punk's filthy lips?

And worse, once word had begun to spread of Punk and AJ's new relationship—that damn _I Dig Crazy Chicks_shirt flashed before his eyes—he could hear the snickers and jokes from the other wrestlers, and even some of the Divas, in the back as he walked by at his expense, hearing about how AJ had 'traded up' or 'found herself a guy worth a damn' or worse…how 'the Vegan midget lost his chick to the skinny fat ass dude.'

No, no, no, Daniel Bryan would not have that. He wasn't going to be the joke of the locker room. He had come too damn far to be reduced to this. And Punk was NOT going to take his thunder and overshadow him again…certainly not with someone that Daniel still considered as his property.

She would see, he thought to himself, darkly; soon enough, he would have her come crawling back to him, begging him to take her back. Then he would be back where he belonged—right on top of the food chain of the company.

But he needed that WWE title first; he knew that he was still fighting for position after failing to beat Punk the last few times, but all he had to do was somehow get in good with Big Johnny and his bootlickers. From there, it was a matter of timing and patience.

And if there was one thing Daniel Bryan had learned in his 13 years taking bumps in every stink hole around the world waiting for his opportunity to make it to the big time, it was patience.

So he would wait; wait and watch for his moment. And when he struck, not only would he have AJ back on his arm…he'd finally have the chance to show the whole world just how much better he was than that overrated, Pepsi-gulping, pipebomb-wielding, tattooed clown CM Punk.

Oh,Yes, he smirked, the whole world would see what Vegan Power could really do.

* * *

TBC…

* * *

**Next: Just what will happen when AJ and Punk meet the People Power regime in the center of the ring? What will be this offer that Punk can't refuse? **

Well, gtg! More on the way soon, promise. Punk & AJ...STILL better than Twilight, yes? lol

Later!

-Jean-theGuardian


	4. Part 4

Hey there! Guess who's back! Special shout out to AnRevival, Ada15, Lacey, Bigredfox10, WhiteAsukalover, Tiffy G1, Noraque, NormalChick, RonRon10 and Lok2685. You guys Rock!

Hope the Punk/AJ love keeps going her on FF dot net. With any luck, this will be the first of a bunch of new updates!

**Hard To Handle**

**Part 4**

* * *

**WWE RAW**

**Backstage - Roughly a few minutes earlier**

* * *

Punk had just finished up taking a shower after his match with the Miz earlier tonight. The cool water hitting his face was a welcome relief to the heat radiating off of his skin. A heat matched only by the fading flickers of anger that were subsiding within him.

Anger resulting from a heated exchange that came between him and his self-proclaimed "Awwwwe-some!" opponent during the match…

_Punk snorted to himself as Miz pranced around in the moments before the bell rung, making those silly "tough guy" faces that, for some odd reason, made that faux-hawk sporting goofball think he was a badass._

_Still, Punk made it a point to take this match seriously. Miz might not be as good as, say, Punk himself or Daniel Bryan—and as of late, even Santino Marella had a better winning percentage than Miz—but he was still a former WWE Champion and he was a rather crafty and conniving competitor whenever he set his mind to it. _

_The match itself was pretty fast-paced, although Punk still made it a point to throw a few jabs his opponent's way, specifically about his choice of haircut ("Nice Fauxhawk; did you get permission to use it from the 9 year-old kid you stole it from?") his ex-girlfriend ("So, Miz…I hear Maryse is hanging out with baseball players these days. How many bases you think she let Derek Jeter round off? Or maybe he just stole home on the first play?") his reality TV show fame ("I hear The Real World's doing a reunion show later this year; wonder why they forgot to send you the invitation?") his wrestling ability ("I don't know which is worse: your rapping, that two dollar haircut, Vickie Guerrero's screeching, Mae Young in a thong or any one of your matches…nah, it's definitely your matches, but your rapping's a close second! You're so bad you make Cena sound like WuTang Clan!") and, of course, his losing streak. ("Hey, Miz! Miz! Do me a favor and land on your left side after I pin you tonight; I hear TMZ's lurking around here, and I want them to catch my best side after you lose for the, what, 30th time? I mean, you lost to Santino a few nights ago…really? **Santino**? Really? REALLY?")_

_The words had their desired effect, as Miz was getting more riled up, but sloppier as Punk, smiling in what internet vernacular would describe as a "trolling" grin, effortlessly evaded his moves and countered with all sorts of Muay Thai kicks, slams, and submission holds. He even took the time to ruffle Miz's signature haircut like an older brother to a weakling child. Punk was having fun, and loving it, as were the fans, who were chanting a deafening "CM PUNK! CM PUNK!" mantra throughout the arena. Ever the ham, Punk took a moment to bow to the audience, while Miz was on the floor, recovering._

_At last, Miz snapped and landed a shot from behind, nailing Punk in the head. From there, the former reality TV star took control as he cinched in headlocks, punches and every form of cheap shot that he could think of. _

"_You wanna make fun of me, huh, Punk?" Miz snapped through his teeth as he stomped into Punk's midsection, driving him into the corner. "You don't make fun of me, nobody makes fun of me! I'M the Miz and I'M Awesome, and you know it!"_

_Punk barely had time to catch his breath before he felt his windpipe being constricted thanks to the Miz's boot caught against his throat. _

_Over the pain, he managed to hear a few choice words from his opponent. "You're the champ? You're nothing, Punk! Nothing! You're pathetic, and you're easy…just like your girlfriend, AJ!"_

_At that, Punk's eyes snapped wide open. _

"_Yeah, you heard me," Miz sneered as he backed away, taking a moment to relish in his triumph, thinking he was about to close in on a victory. "Daniel Bryan told me all about her; how she plays it all innocent for the cameras but she turns into a little slut once the bedroom doors close." A cocky, satisfied smile. "But I guess those indy chicks really are wild ones, huh? Wild and crazy. Maybe when this is over, I might pay your little whore a visit during the after-hours myse-OOF!"_

_Miz never got to finish his sentence as Punk, suddenly full of life and raging with anger, leapt out of the corner and pounced on his opponent, raining down blow after blow on Miz's hapless form, the Cleveland native pathetically trying to cover up. _

_Normally, this would have been the time for Punk to set up his patented GTS to seal the win, but after hearing the vile words about his sweet AJ spewing out of Miz's oversized mouth, Punk decided that putting Miz to sleep was too good for him. _

_No, there was only one way to make sure that Miz would learn his lesson regarding talking shit about AJ, or even thinking about her like that, ever again…_

_With that in mind, Punk wrenched Miz's left arm behind his skull and wrapped his own arms around Miz's head and began to wrench hard in the painful and deadly Anaconda Vise. That excruciating submission hold had made the very best wrestlers in the WWE tap out, had won Punk several championships in the past…and now, Punk was applying it with as much torque and pull as he could muster. _

_Screaming in pain, it wasn't long before Miz began frantically tapping out, the referee calling for the bell and awarding the match to Punk as the crowd rejoiced. But Punk wasn't done yet. No, no, no, tapping out wasn't good enough…_

"_Say you're sorry, you son of a bitch!" snarled Punk, his iron grip unbreakable. "**SAY IT!**"_

"_AAH! Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" screamed Miz._

"_And what are you sorry **for**?" an angry Punk demanded._

"_I-I-I-I'm sorry about calling your girlfriend a slut!" Miz wheezed and panted._

"_Right, because she's WHAT?" _

"_She-she-she's a very nice girl, and she's cute and sweet!" _

"_And you'll never do it again, RIGHT?" Punk prompted, not easing up on his grip on Miz's head in the slightest. _

"_OWOWOWOW! No, no, no, no, I'll never do it again, I promise!" Miz whined. _

"_Very good, Miz! You learn quick!" Punk snarked sarcastically, before he twisted one more time. "Now tell the camera that your haircut is stupid!"_

"_AAHH! Okay, okay, my haircut is stupid…"_

_Punk smirked. "Good. Who's the Best Wrestler in the World?"_

_Groaning, Miz relented. "You are…"_

_Twisting harder, Punk demanded. "**Louder**! So the people at home can hear you!"_

"_AAH! Okay, okay, CM Punk is the Best Wrestler in the World! AHH!"_

_Satisfied, Punk relinquished his hold. "You know…that was the most entertaining thing you've done in the last year."_

_As his theme music hit, drawing a loud ovation from the crowd, Punk smiled, pleased with himself as he took one last look at the writhing Miz before walking back up the ramp with his title to celebrate. It was one thing to mess with CM Punk…but you never, ever messed with CM Punk's girl…_

Punk shook his head as he took in that match. Yeah, it had been fun to make Miz squeal like a pug. That guy always bugged him. But it was a little..disturbing to realize how much that dig about AJ had gotten under his skin. The last time he had felt anything close to that rage was when Jericho was talking crap about his family. While it was different on the surface—as that had to do with buried demons that Punk thought he had long laid to rest—it was still the same: those words burned him because he cared.

In the last few months he had grown closer to AJ than he would have ever thought possible. Punk had cared about a lot of the girls that he dated; hell, even admitted that he fell in love with a few of them. AJ was…she wasn't like any of them. He hadn't fallen this fast and this hard for a chick in…well, ever. The fastest before then was Maria, and even that took a while.

Hearing Miz talk about AJ like that…he hadn't felt anger rip through him like that since Jericho called his sister Shaylene a drug addict (totally untrue). And he'd be lying if he said he was happy that scum like Miz knew about his relationship with AJ. He knew that Daniel knew, but how many others knew? Did Alberto Del Rio know? Or Kane? Jericho? Cody Rhodes? Mark Henry?

Did Laurinaitis and his bootlickers know?

Speaking of which, he couldn't help but to be a little thrown when Eve "the Hoeski" Torres sauntered down to the stage after his match and informed him that "Little Johnny" had requested his presence later tonight for a little public powwow. He also wasn't blind to the way Eve was giving him the "bedroom eyes" from head to toe, looking like a lioness licking her chops at a gazelle. And frankly, Punk was a little skeeved out. Sure, Eve was a first-rate hottie, but she was getting a reputation as the locker room bike. And after the antics he'd seen of her at Cena's and Ryder's expense, he knew better than to cross paths with Eve.

The question was: of all times, why did John Tonsillitis want to deal with him now? Did this have anything to do with that scheme of his to get his hands on the WWE title? Or was it another way of sticking it to Punk for all of his slights?

Punk didn't know. To be honest, he didn't care either way. Laurinaitis was too stupid to come up with anything original; whatever it was that he was up to, Punk was sure that he'd see it coming a mile away. And he'd deal with it, like he always did: with a handful of pipe bombs and a solid leg to kick some heads in.

The door suddenly began to knock to the rhythmic sound of "The Wheels on the Bus go round and round." Only one person he knew knocked that way, he realized with a smile.

"Come on in, AJ," he called out offhandedly as he wrapped a towel around his waist.

Not a few moments later, the small, fit frame of the New Jersey native came walking through the door, adorned in one of his T-shirts. AJ was about to greet him when she caught sight of her boyfriend in a towel—and only a towel.

Instantly, all thoughts of verbage were blown out of her mind as she took in the dripping sight of Punk. _Uh…I…humm…ohboyohwowohmy…_

Punk gave her a cocky smirk. "Tip, honey? Mouth looks better closed."

Coming to her senses, AJ gave him a wry smile as she picked up one of his discarded kick pads and threw it at him playfully. "Warn me the next time you do that," she chided. Then she thought about it. "Or, on second thought, don't. Much more fun for me."

"Perv," he shot back at her with a smile as he threw his pad back at her, AJ nimbly ducking the pad as she stuck her tongue out at him.

"So…to what do I owe this pleasure?" Punk drawled as he took in just how…hot…AJ looked wearing one of his shirts.

"What, a girl can't just drop in afterwards to see her boyfriend after a long and grueling match?" she inquired with an impish grin.

Punk shrugged, dismissively. "It was Miz, dollface. It's not like I was fighting Ric Flair circa 1985 or whatever."

"How bad did you beat him?" AJ asked, curious.

Punk smirked. "Enough to make him remember this match for at least two weeks."

AJ laughed as she closed the gap between them. "You are such a punk, you know that?"

He could only grin as he pulled her in close to his body. "Chicago Made, honey."

With a giggle, AJ leaned in, reached up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss, which he was only too happy to reciprocate. What began as a tender ,sweet kiss suddenly began to build into something more as the couple suddenly found themselves pressed against the wall of the locker room, tangled in a heated embrace.

AJ closed her eyes as she ran her hands through Punk's wet hair, the tattoed Straight Edge Superstar placing heated kisses on her lips, her neck, her collarbone. She found his touch to be tender, yet skilled, strong. He wasn't full of demand and need like Daniel was; sure, she could tell he wanted her, but the tenderness of his kisses, his fingers let her know that, more importantly, he cared for her. And that made their embrace so hot for her that it was all she could do to keep from melting into a puddle of goo.

"God, it's a shame we can't just get out of here right now," Punk murmured between kisses, savoring the sweet and salty tang of her lips.

"Yeah, I heard…_mmngh_," she gasped as she cradled his soaking head, holding him closer to her. "Laurinaitis wants to see you, huh?"

"Word travels fast," Punk breathed as his lips trailed down her neck. "Yeah, that big gunkard wants me front and center in the ring; shame, really…I could think of a number of things I'd like to do with you if we had some free time."

"Like last night?" AJ smiled against his ear as she nibbled on it.

Punk's grin was from ear to ear as he recalled the night before, almost breaking out into a hot sweat as he remembered what they did, as he tasted the salty sun-bronzed skin of her collarbone. "Gotta love you flexible chicks. So many possibilities…" By now, her shirt had flown over her head, Punk taking in the sight of her toned, tanned flesh in nothing but a black and white strapped sports bra. "I kinda want to just blow off that tool and explore each of those possibilities…one…by...one…"

"Baby, he'll…fire…you," AJ warned, even though her thoughts were rapidly becoming little more than mush as Punk's daft fingers began to find her way down behind her tights, teasing and meading the soft, supple flesh of her ass.

"He can't fire me, babe; I'm a franchise player now," Punk said with pride, and a hint of smugness, as his lips alternated between her mouth and her neck. "Champion, video game cover boy, talk show guest star…I don't wanna say I'm The Man now, but…well, yeah, I'm The Man now."

AJ chuckled in a throaty way as she nibbled on his lips. "Well, aren't you a smug bastard?"

"Yes I am," Punk said, his voice thick with want as he began to lift her up into his arms, her strong, tanned yet tiny legs wrapping around his waist. "Now, let me go show you why they call me the Best in the World…again."

"Phil…" Kiss. "We have to…" Kiss. "Talk about…" Kiss. "…tonight…"

"Talk later, baby," he muttered against her mouth, as the towel disappeared and her shorts came sliding off her legs. "I just need to…taste you…here…now…"

"I…ohhh…_Yeessss_…" was her hushed whisper of a reply, as she finally gave in to her need for him, before they ended up back in the shower doing anything BUT getting clean.

Roughly a half-hour later, Punk and AJ sat in the shower, savoring the afterglow of their get-together. His arm was wrapped almost possessively around her back, while her right arm was draped across his chest, the smile on her face dreamy and satisfied.

"You should come around and visit me more often after matches," Punk smirked as he played with an idle strand of her hair.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" AJ smirked back.

"After that? Uh, hell yes!" Punk grinned with a little waggle of his eyebrows, which elicited another laugh from AJ.

Yet another difference that she noted. Daniel, even before he became a jackass, wasn't all that funny. His was more of the straight man humor, but he rarely showed it off, and it all but disappeared after he cashed in that stupid briefcase of his on Big Show in December. Punk, though, he was a different case; he could find the humor in almost anything. No matter how small or how big. It offered a kind of needed levity at times. It made her feel safe. Comforted. Even…loved.

"So…about tonight…" AJ tried, attempting to make the conversation a little more serious.

"Oh, yeah, that," Punk sighed offhandedly. "Whatever. It's no big deal. Knowing that goof, he probably just wants to put me in a triple threat, Texas death, endless gauntlet, steel cage, flaming ring of fire match thing or something. Nothing I can't handle."

When he caught sight of AJ biting her lip—something he knew was her trait whenever she became nervous—Punk frowned. "Babe? What's going on?"

With a worried sigh, the tiny Diva told him about what transpired after her own match with Natalya, specifically the part about Eve's mysterious invitation for her to join Punk at the end of the show in the center of the ring.

To say that Punk was not happy was a drastic understatement. _He knows_, he realized in dismay. _That fucking bastard knows about us. Damn it!_

"Fuck," he cursed out loud. "How did they find out?"

"I…I have no idea," AJ sighed. Off his look, she blurted, "I _swear_ I haven't told anyone!"

"I know, I believe you," Punk sighed in frustration. Then he realized, with sudden clarity, who it was that had seen them around.

"Bryan," he laughed dryly, before he slammed his fist against a wall. "Fucking asshole. When I get my hands on that little midget, I'm gonna pop him like a zit."

"Punk, forget it," AJ tried to calm him down, gently reaching up and stroking his wet sideburns. "So, they know about us. Big deal. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Workplace romances never exactly stay secret for long."

"It's not that simple, AJ," Punk exhaled, upset. "You know that. When you have the WWE Championship, everyone is gunning for you. And…"

Even though he broke off, AJ could tell from the way his lips flattened into a hard, serious line that he was holding something back. Punk wasn't the only one that had learned to read his significant other's moods.

" 'And' what, baby?" she asked, softly.

"Forget about it," Punk shrugged it off. "No need for you to get worried about all that."

"Hey," she said, gently guiding his face to hers. "If it concerns you, it concerns me, too. C'mon…tell me."

While he was reluctant to drag her into his business, Punk knew it would only upset AJ more if he kept things in. in fact, she would hound him until he finally broke. She was like that. So, he told her about what Sheamus and Kofi had told him last night, regarding Laurinaitis's mysterious 'plans' for him, the details of which had yet to be revealed.

His confession confirmed AJ's suspicions. "You think it's all connected, then."

"I never really believed much in coincidence, doll," he nodded.

As her eyes lowered, a troubled and somewhat guilty look on her face emerged, which drew Punk's concern. "AJ? Hey, what's wrong, babe?"

She looked up at him, a culpable look still etched on her cherubic features. "Pun…Phil…look, just go without me to the ring later tonight. I'll just head back to the hotel and wait for you there, or something."

That caught him by surprise. "AJ…you have to go; you know that. As long as that idiot's still in power, he's still got control over giving out pink slips. He can't touch me, but if he does know about us, he'll just fire you because he knows it'll get to me."

"Which is exactly why I shouldn't be out there tonight," AJ countered. "Punk, you worked so hard to get that title; I'm not going to let him use me to take it off of you!"

"He won't take it off of me that way," Punk assured her. "Not gonna happen. He's gonna need a lot more than head games to take this off of me. He could ask Jericho all about that."

"But—"

"AJ," he cut her off, gently. "You worked your ass off to get here. I know; I've seen the footage from when you started out. I'm not going to let you give up your dream just so I can hold on to this belt a little longer. That's Daniel's schtick, not mine."

"I…I know you're not like Daniel. I just—I just don't want to be a liability to you,"  
AJ sighed. "You sure I won't…be in your way? Or, you know…distract you?"

Punk smirked. "Babe, you're a hot flexible chick with a killer smile and a great ass. It's hard for you to NOT be distracting while I'm out there."

"_Phil_!" she exclaimed with a smile as she swatted his chest.

His smile turned from teasing to tender. "I'm serious, AJ. Look, worse case scenario, he knows. If he tries something, or if he threatens you, I'll twist him into a pretzel knot like I did Miz. Just go out there, be yourself, and relax. I'll be right behind you, and I'll handle my business the best way I know how. It'll all be fine."

Off his assuring smile, AJ felt herself relax a little. There it was again; that devil-may-care attitude that made him so…well, the word _sexy_ was pretty much the only word that AJ could sum it up with. She had no doubt that if it were Daniel in this position, he'd be up the wall, crazed, tense and livid. He'd probably accuse her of being a distraction and use all sorts of other horrible words.

But not Punk.

"Okay?" he asked with a grin.

Her smile was sweet, trusting. "Okay," she nodded, as the two lovers shared a tender kiss on the wet floor of the shower.

"Okay, then," Punk said as he clapped his hands. "Now, if you're done violating me while I shower, I think we have a segment to prepare for."

"Violated you?" she smirked as she helped him up. "I didn't hear you complaining a few minutes ago. I haven't heard that many 'Oh, Gods' since my Communion."

"Well, from what I've been told, sex with CM Punk IS a religious experience," Punk smirked cockily.

"Pig!" she teased as she smacked his head lightly.

"You love me," he ribbed back as he handed her towel to her.

Her answer was a dazzling smile that made his stomach tingle. "Sometimes…I kinda do."

* * *

"My name…is Mr. John Laurinaitis!" announced the ruling RAW and Smackdown GM, which drew a hail of boos and hisses from the rabid fans. "I am the Executive Vice President of Talent Relations and Permanent General Manager of both Raw and Smackdown."

Alongside Laurinaitis, Eve and David Otunga flanked him at both sides, smug looks on their faces.

"Earlier tonight, I requested the presence of two of our company's principal title holders and two of the WWE Universe's most beloved stars today," he continued, ignoring the crowd's booing. "With every growing company, it is always important to look not to the past, but to the future. And what better way to look at that future than to look at the best of the best standing today? So let's talk about the future…let's start with the new Divas Champion. Ladies and gentlemen, the lovely and talented…AJ!"

At that, the bouncy and poppy sound of "Let's Light it Up," AJ's theme music, hit and out came the Divas Champion, dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a jean jacket with Marvel's "The Avengers" logo emblazoned on the back, black and white sneakers, and a white T-shirt that read "Self-Rescuing Princess." The Butterfly Belt nestled proudly on her shoulder, she gave an enthusiastic wave to the fans, who responded with cheers and wolf whistles.

Despite her megawatt smile, she couldn't help but to feel the apprehension as she stopped short on the ramp, while watching Laurinaitis and Otunga clapping politely, while Eve eyed her with a noticeable sneer; she couldn't help but to feel like she was a lamb being sent in front of a pack of wolves, particularly Eve.

That chick was really starting to get on AJ's nerves; she had no idea what her problem was, but if she wanted a fight, AJ would soon be more than happy to oblige.

Before she had too much time to dwell on that thought, the sound of static crackled through the arena's speakers, followed by the blaring sounds and drums of Living Colour's "Cult of Personality."

Immediately, the fans in attendance cheered and screamed loudly as they stood in anticipation of the arrival of the one man associated with that music…

…the WWE Champion, CM Punk.

_Look in my Eeeeeyes! What do you see? _

_The Cult of Personaaaality…_

The moment Punk stepped through the curtain, sporting his "In Punk We Trust" T-shirt over his wrestling gear, WWE Championship wrapped around his waist, the audience exploded in a standing ovation.

From grown men to women and children, all of them hailed his arrival with cheers, chants of "CM PUNK! CM PUNK! CM PUNK!" and an assortment of various signs ("Best in the World: C x M + Punk, It's all in the Math", "I paid to see CM Punk!" "I Still Want Ice Cream!" "Punk for President" "Proud member of the Cult of Punk" and "#Pipe Bomb!") the fans roared their approval for the WWE Champion.

Upon seeing his figure up on the ramp, cocky smirk on his face as he took in the fans adulation, AJ couldn't help but to smile and shake her head. He was almost like a little kid up there, despite that Joe Cool exterior he put on; she could tell how much the business meant to him. And his presence made a large number of the butterflies in her stomach ebb and fade away.

_I know your angeerr, I know your dreams,_

_I've been everything you want to beeeeee_

_Ooooooh, I'm the Cult of Personaaaality…_

Upon seeing her, he smiled and motioned for her to come join him on the ramp. Confused, but intrigued, AJ found herself moments later side by side with him up the ramp. Her confusion turned to surprise as he knelt down in his signature opening pose, cocking his head as an indication for her to join him.

AJ blinked, stunned. "You want me to…?"

"Yeah, come on, they'll love it," he smiled.

Barely able to contain her excitement, AJ grinned like a school girl as she knelt down alongside Punk.

_Like Mussolini, and Kennedyyy_

_Iiiii'm the Cult of Personality, the Cult of Personality_

_The Cult of Personaaaality…._

"You know…I've always wanted to do this with you," she confided in his ear, smiling.

His grin was his reply. "Well, wishes are horses today, sweet thang."

As one, just as Punk finished checking the imaginary watch on his taped up wrists, both AJ and Punk shouted to the world, much to the crowd's roaring delight, just what time it was:

"IT'S CLOBBERING TIIIME!"

_Neon lights, Nobel Prize_

_When a leader speaks, the reflection lies,_

_You won't have to follow me,_

_Only you can set me free…_

Laurinaitis looked like he had swallowed a dead frog as he regarded Punk coming down the ramp. He was going to have to swallow some pride if this worked; but if it didn't…well, he certainly wasn't going to mind doling out consequences.

_I saw the things you need to be_

_I'm the smiling face on your T-V!_

_Oooh, I'm the Cult of Personaaality…_

As the couple entered the ring—Punk holding up his championship for all to see as he stood on the left-hand turnbuckle, declaring himself "BEST IN THE WOOOORRRLD!"—AJ caught sight of Eve's hungry gaze, her lips curled into a sly smirk as she took in the sight of her boyfriend.

_I exploit you, still you love me_

_I tell you 1 and 1 makes 3!_

_Oooh, I'm the Cult of Personaaality…_

The smile faded from AJ's face as she felt her eyes narrow dangerously at the former model, a strong urge to slap the eyeliner off Eve's face taking over her before the petite Diva willed herself to calm down. She wasn't here to make a scene; the three creeps opposite her gave her the creeps, and frankly, AJ just wanted this to be over with as fast and as quickly as possible.

As Punk's music died down, Laurinaitis put on his plastic, phony smile. "You know, Punk…I don't appreciate the fact that you came out here before I had the opportunity to introduce you to the public."

"Well, sorry, Johnny Boy, but this is a TV show, and if I had to sit back there and listen to you drone on and on pointlessly in that monotone voice of yours like you normally do, we would have lost more people to 'Dancing With the Stars,'" Punk smirked, to which the audience cheered.

Laurinaitis pursed his lips, trying to keep his composure, despite the rapidly building pressure in his arterial walls. "That's…very funny, Punk," he tersely managed, before plastering on another phony smile. "But I didn't bring you out here to start any trouble. Okay? On the contrary, I wanted to discuss the future with you."

"If it's a future in the WWE without you in it, I'm all ears," Punk riposted, which drew laughter and a few "YES! YES! YES!" chants from the audience.

Despite shaking her head—realizing that his words were only going to get them into more trouble—AJ couldn't help but to smile and chuckle a little. He was in his element, she got that; the class clown that was always dogging on the principal.

"Again, very amusing," Laurinaitis smiled through his teeth. "But just hear me out, hear me out. I came to talk about business. Okay? As many of you know," he addressed the WWE universe. "..according to the latest poll on WWE . com, the votes show that CM Punk is the fans' choice as the most popular Superstar in all of WWE."

The fans cheered loudly, echoes of "CM PUNK! CM PUNK!" echoing through the arena. Ever the showman, Punk acknowledged them with a bow and a 'Thank you.' As he looked towards AJ, his girlfriend gave him a wink in approval, though he forced himself not to smile too much; no sense in showing all of his cards before Laurinaitis showed his whole hand.

"That being said, I will be the first to admit…I was wrong about you," he said, looking as if he was forced to swallow a rancid lemon as he said the words. "I had my doubts about whether you could rise to the challenge and be a true star in this business, but you not only rose to the challenge, you shattered the glass ceiling. And for that…I'm proud of you, son."

He extended his hand for Punk to shake; but the raised eyebrow on the face of the WWE champion showed that he was less than moved.

"Right," Punk scoffed. " 'Son?' I'm your son, now? Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, you either think I'm stupid, or you're stupid enough to believe this load of crap you're spewing, and frankly, I'm not sure which one it is."

AJ's mouth turned a little; she smelled a pipe bomb coming, and she could hear Punk's fuse crackling.

"Let's cut through the BS, 'Johnny,'" he continued. "I have it on pretty good authority that you don't like me much, do you? As a matter of fact, you can't stand me. In fact, you HATE me, don't you? And that's just fine, because I feel the exact same way about you, your lame ass scooter you come out with, and just about every single aspect of you from your cheap little suits to that 1950s hairstyle to the way those clueless beady little eyes of yours look down on everyone around you. So, now that we know where we stand, exactly what is it that you want from me?"

"Now, Punk," Otunga stepped in, another facetious smile on his face. "Let's not get carried away. This doesn't have to get ugly. In fact…we're here to talk about the future. Your future, in fact. It's about us helping you to be all you can be."

Punk scoffed with a bemused smirk. "What, you're going make me join the Army?"

Despite her efforts not to, AJ's attempt to hold in her laugh failed as an amused snort escaped her. She had to admit, that was kinda funny.

"Allow me to clarify, Punk," Eve stepped in, flashing Punk a smile that would have made most men wilt. But to Punk, it only warranted a raised eyebrow…while it made AJ's hand itch from the impulse of wanting to slap the taste out of this woman's mouth. "If you could please direct your attention to the titantron."

Suspicious, Punk and AJ directed their attention to the titantron, which immediately began displaying a video package of Laurinaitis's "People Power" regime.

"John Laurinaitis…visionary. Icon. Sports Entertainment Pioneer," the deep, male voiceover proclaimed.

AJ rolled her eyes, already bored. She and Punk could be at a diner right now, chowing down on a milkshake and cheeseburgers and laughing about the day's events, or better yet, taking another shower in their hotel room. Instead, they had to see some video package about a no-talent middle management flunky fapping to himself.

Looking to Punk, who was making gagging sounds at the voiceover, she barely contained her laughter, gently elbowing him to keep him in line.

"And the man who is bringing to the WWE universe, the new, undisputed face of the WWE…"

Suddenly, a highlight reel of Punk's rise to stardom began to play, almost like a tribute video from his days in ECW to his first World Title to other classic bouts he had with big time superstars, his now legendary June 27 'Pipe Bomb' on WWE and his reign as WWE Champion.

"Together... Revolutionizing the face of the WWE. John Laurinaitis. And CM Punk." At that point, a rather cheesy looking, superimposed image of Punk and Laurinaitis shaking hands appeared on the screen. "Bringing a new day to sports entertainment."

AJ bit hard on her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the promo. That was just the tackiest, corniest thing she had ever seen in her life. A photoshop of Punk and Laurinaitis shaking hands? That was just ill-conceived.

"And Punk?" Laurinaitis proclaimed with a smile as the lights came back on. "That's what I want for your futu—"

A loud snore came from Punk, who was pretending to sleep through the whole thing. Naturally, the crowd loved it, and AJ couldn't help but to snicker a little.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Punk called out as he "woke up." "Wow, I had the strangest dream. I dreamt that I was stuck in a ring with some old washed up ex-wrestler, the little guy from 'Fresh Prince of Bel Air' and Corporate Hooker Barbie watching the most boring, cheesy, pathetic marketing style video package ever made." Widening his eyes, he pointed to Laurinaitis and his crew. "And YOU were there!" To the audience. "And you and you and you and…wait, oh, crap, that actually happened? Damn it!"

Laughter in the crowd rumbled through the building, and Laurinaitis felt his face redden like a tomato in anger and embarrassment; which forced AJ to bite down hard on her tongue to keep from laughing too hard.

"Now Punk," Laurinaitis tersely said. "I'm trying to be professional here, but you're just being rude now, okay? I'm trying, okay?"

"Sir, if I may," Otunga cut in, looking at Punk. "Now, Punk…I don't think you fully understand what we're offering here. It's clear that, deep down, all you really want is a chance to make the big money, the way that other legendary names in this business made that money, and that fame. Stone Cold Steve Austin. The Rock. Hulk Hogan. Triple H. John Cena. And Punk…your name could be synonymous with them. Maybe even…surpass them."

"Think about it. By partnering with us, by allowing us to mold you, to guide your career, which hasn't even reached its full peak yet, to reach its full potential, we're not just talking ice cream bars and collector's cups. We're talking Hollywood. Movies. Guest star appearances on TV shows. Your name could be on everything from shirts to shoes to underwear to baby food. We're talking fame, we're talking money and financial security…with our backing, Punk, you could live the life you always wanted."

As AJ spied Punk's eyes, she could see a serious look take on his face as he listened to their offer.

"Punk, I'll pay you the compliment of being blunt," Eve cut in as she pushed her way past Otunga. "You're obviously a man of great business savvy. You know who you are and what you're worth. You're hitting strides not seen since the Attitude Era. Maybe the best all-around talent in the business today. But at the end of the day…you're still just another wrestler. What we're offering to do…is to make you a star. Someone that transcends the business. Someone who will be talked about for years, long after you've retired. And Mr. Laurinaitis has the ability to do that for you. We've just been waiting for someone like you to come along…"

She turned her best smile towards him as she eyed him from head to toe with a bedroom smile. "Someone who we could…mold. That we could…shape. That we could help…rise up…and realize his greatness. Think about it, Punk."

She slowly took off her glasses, fixing her most sultry stare on him as she trailed one perfectly manicured nail down Punk's chest, making AJ's eyes widen in outrage. Sensing her anger—and seeing her hand twitch slightly, no doubt with the itch to tear off Eve's hair—Punk subtly shook his head. Now wasn't the time.

"We'll be very sure that we have a…hands-on…experience in helping you get…on top…of WWE," she smirked, before slowly walking back to Laurinaitis's side, making sure her hips had a little extra wiggle as she did so.

If AJ wasn't so pissed, she'd find Eve's come-on almost comical. She'd seen better pick-up lines in bad porno flicks. Eyeing Punk for any sense of interest, she was relieved when he threw her a weirded-out glance, as if to ask "What the hell was that all about?"

"And AJ!" Laurinaitis added, which surprised the New Jersey native. "Whatever we could do for Punk, we could do for you, as well. You're a talented, pretty little thing. It's obvious the WWE Universe loves you…" The crowd cheered loudly in response. "Think about what we could do for you! Why, with our help, you could become the next Trish Stratus! The next Lita! We could have you turned into a megastar overnight, if we have the chance—"

"Okay, okay, I think we get it," Punk cut him off. "Big money, movies, yay! But, uh, one thing that just sort of bothers me…the word 'mold.' You wanna mold me? What am I, Play-doh? I think I know what that means. That's Corporate-ese for you want to cut off my nuts and make me your little shaved monkey, right? You want to make me another Yes Man, yeah?"

Laurinaitis tried not to smirk. "Punk, in business, it's all about tit-for-tat. Quid pro quo. You scratch my back, and I scratch your back. I'm offering you the world. And all you have to do in return…is just play ball, okay? Just go with the flow. Just bend a little bit."

Punk shook his head, realizing his game as he flashed his trademark smirk. "Oh, I see. Play ball? Wink-wink, nudge-nudge? Well, there's just one little problem with that, 'Mister' Laurinaitis—I don't do business that way.

"I don't go with the flow, I make some big ass waves. I don't bend, and I don't break, unless its other guys' necks and limbs. And as far as you molding me and shaping me into your next lapdog, you're barking up the wrong tree, and you can stick your corporate play-doh right up your pasty ass!"

The crowd erupted in cheers, and AJ couldn't help but to smile at that. Part of what she loved and respected about Punk was his willingness to stand up for what he believed in; he played life by his rules, the hell with the consequences. It was obvious for everyone to see, and the idea that Laurinaitis actually thought he could force his corporate ideology down Punk's throat was pretty stupid…_unless he had another ace up his sleeve he had yet to play_, she realized.

She wasn't wrong. As Laurinaitis looked between Punk and AJ, the Geek Goddess didn't like the smile on his face one bit. "Well, Punk, you might not care too much about what happens to you. But what about the people you care about? Even a hoodlum like you must have friends around here. People like…well, like young AJ here."

Punk stiffened, as the smirk on his face fell. _You son of a bitch…_

"In fact," Laurinaitis continued. "I'll bet that not too many people this, but you two are in fact dating, aren't you? I have it on good authority that you two have been seen canoodling around various places. You obviously care about each other, maybe even are in love with one another, I'd wager."

As the murmurs of surprise, and a few cheers, came from the audience, AJ's stomach fell into her feet as she realized that her worst fear had been confirmed. The secret was out; and in front of the entire world, to boot.

From the tense look and the murderous gleam in Punk's eyes as he glared at Laurinaitis, she could tell that he was unhappy with this turn of events, as well.

"AJ's a promising young Diva, Punk, one of the best we've had in years," the GM smirked wickedly. "It'd be a shame if her blossoming career was suddenly cut short because of a little…failure to communicate between us, wouldn't it?"

As a livid Punk took a threatening step towards Laurinaitis, ready to tear off the old man's head, AJ reached out and held him back.

"_Phil_!" she whispered harshly. "Baby, don't do this. This is what he wants."

"Well, wishes are horses today," he growled. "Now let me go, AJ, so I can mule kick this dumbass's empty head off!"

"No!" she hissed louder. "I am not about to let your temper get the better of you, now calm down! We'll figure this out…we will. I promise."

Still glaring daggers at the older man, Punk reluctantly backed down. For now, anyway.

Laurinaitis chuckled, thinking that he now had the upper hand. "You see, Punk, I'm a man who is used to getting what I want. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way, is you swallow your pride, stand up like a man, shake my hand and we can embark on this new partnership together. And the hard way…well, not only are you going to be forced to do it my way anyway, but well, AJ might have to do well in her…future endeavors. Just like a lot of your friends, whose names I can't recall, that I've had to do the same to over the years."

As Otunga and Eve smirked beside Laurinaitis, Punk felt his anger race through his system like poison. So, that was his big plan, Punk realized; putting the figurative gun at AJ to make him kowtow to his demands.

"Their names?" Punk spat. "Their names were Colt Cabana and Luke Gallows. Good friends of mine, very talented wrestlers in this company. Talent, a word that has never been even in the same sentence as you, has it, 'Johnny?' Tell me something…how does it feel knowing that out of two mullet-sporting goofs with surfboards claiming to be 'Dynamic Dudes,' that it would be your _partner_, Shane Douglas, that would rise to fame in ECW as its franchise, while your vanilla ass couldn't even land a job in the States?"

Laurinaitis's smirk fell, his pride wounded at the truthful remark, while the fans reacted with a loud, sarcastic '_Ooooh_!'

"How does it feel that the only belt in this business you've ever had was the one holding up those cheap little pants you wear with that rumpled up suit every week that you step out here?"

The catcalls and laughter grew louder as the embarrassed GM felt his lips tighten and his cheeks redden. And AJ couldn't help but to think that the man looked like he hadn't gone to the bathroom in about 72 hours.

"How does it feel that this—what'd you call me? Oh yeah—hoodlum standing here in front of you does more in a month than you've done in your entire career?" Punk shouted, getting on a roll as he was right in Laurinaitis's face, all piss and vinegar. "That's what really kills you, doesn't it? This isn't about your vision, or your corporate dollar signs, this is about you desperately trying to hold onto your job as Executive Vice Douchebag of Transsexual Relations or whatever it is your lame ass job title reads—"

An indignant Laurinaitis tried to correct him. "Executive Vice Presid—"

"SHUT THE HELL UP! I'm not done yet," Punk snarled as the crowd went wild. "Your ass is on the chopping block; I know it, you know it, and everybody around here, including Carlton Banks and the Hoeski of the Week here, knows it. Because the Board of Directors finally figured out that a 6-year old could run RAW and Smackdown better than you. So you figured that you'd try to blackmail me by using my girlfriend—yes, and AJ is my girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen…"

Off the applause and the cheers from the crowd, AJ felt a blush come on, feeling a swell of pride in knowing that Punk felt secure enough to validate their relationship for the world to see.

"…by using my girlfriend, one of the most talented Divas on the roster, as a tool against me? Well, let me tell you something, Little Johnny, and I'll use small words and speak it slowly so that confused, senile head of yours can fully process what I'm saying to you—you will never mold me, and you will never break me. I'm not some corporate puppet, I'm not your stooge, and I'm not your patsy. What I am is what I am…and what I am is the Best Wrestler in the whole damn World!"

The crowd's approval was voiced one loud chant of "CM PUNK! CM PUNK! CM PUNK!"

AJ couldn't help but to feel a little turned on at the moment. Okay, way turned on. She had only seen Punk's famous Pipe Bombs thrown from a safe distance, but to see it up close, to hear the passion, the fire, the conviction and confidence that oozed from the Straight Edge Superstar…it was just about the hottest thing she'd ever seen.

Laurinaitis cocked his head from side to side, one of his weird angry ticks. "Punk! You've been a thorn in my side for far too long, and one way or another, this is going to end between us!" Looking to AJ, he tried his last card. "AJ…talk some sense into him. After all, it's not just his future that could be on the line here—it's yours."

Eying him angrily, AJ threw him a smirk as she was handed a microphone. "No, MR. Laurinaitis. I don't think I will. Now, I'm not stupid. I know exactly what you were trying to do. You were trying to use my relationship with Punk to try to get him to be your little lapdog. But if there's one thing I've learned from the last loser I dated, it's this: I am through with people using me."

Off the crowd's impressed cheers, she continued in a collected, yet angry voice. "I'm not a little girl, or a damsel in distress. I'm the Divas Champion, and I've worked my ass off to get where I am. And whatever and wherever I end up from here, I'll earn, like I have everything else. But I'm not going to take handouts, I'm not going to be used as a pawn in a power struggle, and I'm sure as hell not afraid of a fight! You see, you're trying to change the hottest commodity in the WWE into something he'll never be—a corporate puppet. That's not him. That'll never be him, because CM Punk is exactly what he said he was: the Voice of the Voiceless. That's the man that I believe in, and that's the man that these people believe in!"

Once more, the crowd exploded as they chanted the Second City Saint's name in support.

Smiling at her in gratitude, as she winked at him again, Punk looked to the crowd. "I don't know about you guys, but that, I think, was the sexiest damn thing I've ever seen!"

Realizing that he was losing control of the situation, Laurinaitis tried to bully his way into a win, towering over AJ at his full height, even though she did not back up even slightly. "Listen to me, little lady, just who the hell do you think you are? Huh? Do you realize who you're talking to? Do you realize that I can end your career in the blink of an eye?"

His patience at an end, Punk decided that if anyone was going to have the last word tonight, it was going to be him. Stepping in front of Laurinaitis, he flashed him an infuriating grin. "You know what, Johnny? You want me to play ball? Okay, okay, I'm down with that, let's play some ball. In fact, I'd love to go for a round of, oh, say…kick ball!"

In a flash, one of Punk's powerful legs swiftly soared upwards and promptly nailed Laurinaitis in the groin. His eyes watering and his lower half going numb, the GM fell to his knees as he clutched his destroyed manhood.

Immediately, Otunga went on the attack, but Punk was more than ready for him, belting him with several well-placed kicks, chops and punches until he went down to the canvas, where Punk cinched in the Anaconda Vise to the screaming and tapping lawyer.

While AJ stayed away from the fray, she changed her mind as soon as she saw Eve pick up the discarded WWE title and line up just behind Punk's head, no doubt looking for an opening to slam the belt into his skull.

But AJ , in a flash of speed, cut her off at the pass with a spear tackle, seizing the model's hair and slamming her into the ground repeatedly, and with unbridled enthusiasm and aggression. Eve could only scream in protest as she frantically tried to get away from AJ, rolling out of the ring.

Done with Otunga, Punk sprung to his feet, catching sight of Laurinaitis slowly getting to his feet. An evil smile coming over his lips, Punk clasped his hands together and laid his head down against the back of his palms, drawing a roar of anticipation from the crowd as they knew what was coming next.

Clueless, Laurinaitis staggered upwards…only to come right into the waiting arms of the WWE Champion, who hoisted him right on his shoulders. Despite his frantic pleas for mercy, Punk was smiling like a cat cornering a canary as he dropped the GM's face right into his knee in the devastating GTS.

Out of it almost completely, Laurinaitis rolled out of the ring while the crowd went wild and chanted for Punk as his theme music hit.

Feeling a rush unlike anything that ever came over her before, AJ was smiling from ear to ear as she rushed towards Punk and gave him a huge hug.

"Omigod, that was amazing!" she gushed.

"No kidding," Punk agreed, a mile-wide smile on his face. "You were great out here, kid. Looks like you've got the stones to hang up top after all." He grew serious. "Thanks for having my back when the shit hit the fan."

"Hey," she smiled knowingly. "Nobody messes with my guy."

Not really caring about the consequences, AJ pressed her lips to Punk's, surprising him before he figured 'What the hell?' and kissed her back, lifting her up off her feet as the crowd exploded in wild approval.

Both lovers were grinning like idiots, before AJ's pretty face became grave in thought. "You know that you've just declared war on this People Power regime, right?"

"Well, ain't that a kick in the nuts?" Pun smirked.

"I'm serious, Punk," she sighed, looking outside to the angry and embarrassed faces of Otunga and Eve, both attempting to prop up a groggy and stumbling Laurinaitis, still halfway asleep. "There's gonna be trouble."

Punk knew that she was right. There was no going back now. After tonight, Laurinaitis was going to go after him like an obsessed Elmer Fudd hunting wabbits. But hey, he welcomed the challenge. Besides, Laryngitis was right—this thing between them was going to end, one way or another. And Punk was sure of one thing: when the smoke cleared, it would be he, not Laurinaitis, that would be standing on top.

"Yeah, there's gonna be trouble." His arm around AJ's shoulders, he smirked at his embarrassed foes. "And I say, 'Bring it on.'"

* * *

TBC

* * *

Well, gotta go. I was originally going to stop here, but as you guys seem to want more, I guess I should go on, yes?

Later!

-Jean-theGuardian


	5. Part 5

A/N: Hey there, people! I've been quite inspired by the feedback you guys have given me. Shout outs to PikaSixJoy, Ada15, weaselette01, YourAwkward, Amaroqwolf, Sarah, WWETrishFan, E, WhiteAsukalover, Lok2685, Divaprincess95, RonRon10, TellTale77, bubblegum chery ad bigredfox10. You guys are #Awesome!

After last night's RAW, I have to say…I Dig Crazy Chicks even more! I haven't been this amped for a WWE storyline since…well, since June 27, 2011. LOL I can't wait to see how that turns out!

But on this story, I've been in talks with ROnRon10 about making this story part of a new project called the CORE FOUR series, with PikaSixJoy and Loving yesterday. It's a series of separate stories starring Punk, John Cena, Randy Orton and Sheamus, with one goal in mind: Fire John Laurinaitis! Please read "Keeping Them Apart" by PikaSixJoy for details.

Not a full-blown chapter, but I figured this would be a good way to get some background and set the tone for the next chapter. Hope you guys like it! More Punk/Aj stuff to come next chapter, promise. Enjoy!

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 5**

* * *

**Backstage - After the Show**

* * *

"Sheamus, it's not funny!"

Kaitlyn, annoyed, reproached the Great White as they stood backstage watching the ending segment on the monitor nearby, along with Layla and Kofi.

But try as she might, she could not get the Irish-born World Heavyweight Champion to stop laughing at the replay of Punk's boot connecting with Laurinaitis's groin, the camera crews capturing vividly and in multiple angles, the comically stunned and pained expression of the conniving head of Talent Relations.

And oh, boy, did Sheamus ever laugh. In fact, he howled. He guffawed. Long and loud. Giddily and mercilessly.

His sides were practically splitting, his face red as a tomato and his eyes actually tearing up. And his laughter was infectious, as Layla and Kofi found themselves laughing hard and merrily, both from the replay's of Laurinaitis's misfortune and from the contagious laughter of the Celtic Warrior.

"It just works on so many levels!" laughed Sheamus heartily as he leaned against a table to keep from falling on the floor.

"Easily making the highlights for the end of the year! Top 10, at least," Kofi agreed as he snickered alongside the Dublin-born native.

Kaitlyn could only shake her head, failing to see how the gravity of what happened out there moments ago seemed to escape him.

"Sheamus, this isn't a joke, this is serious!" an exasperated Kaitlyn pleaded, even as she fought to hide her own smile.

"Oh, c'mon, Kaitie, let the big lug have his fun," Layla waved her off between chuckles.

The man really did have a great laugh, Kaitlyn relented. And to be honest, that wasn't the only thing she had noticed about the flame-haired grappler. In the last two months, she and Sheamus had been flirting on and off. She wasn't exactly sure how it started, only that it involved seeing him around backstage while AJ was still with Daniel leading up to Wrestlemania. She remembered complimenting the color of his tights for some reason, and that led to a saucy line from him that she couldn't recall but only remembered to be funny.

From there, it had sort of…built up. Little things, she began to notice, like the way that they'd still joke around, but with their jokes becoming a little racier. The way his boisterous, proud Irish voice would soften just a tad when he talked to her, the way she would laugh just a little too loud at his jokes, even the bad ones, the way she caught his eyes linger on her just a fraction too long for a "friend."

Still, Kaitlyn was trying to play it cool; she'd had her experience with men around here. Dolph Ziggler, Derrick Bateman…all of them ending disastrously. The last thing she wanted to do was to complicate a blossoming friendship with a great guy like Sheamus by going down that path. Besides, she didn't join the WWE to take part in a dating service; she came here to be a wrestler, and a great one.

Still, a part of her conceded, the Irish hunk was enough to give a girl pause to wonder what the possibilities could be…

"Oh, come on, Kaitlyn, ya have ta admit, now—that was prime television at its best," Sheamus snickered, trying to sober up from the laughter. "I haven't seen a face that ridiculous since my last visit to Monaghan County, when me cousin Finn and I switched our uncle Mahon's ale with horse piss during our annual Prank War. Ol' Mahon couldn't even touch another ale glass for at least a week and a half."

An amused (if not a little grossed out) snort escaped Kaitlyn as she fought down her smile. "Yeah, okay, it was kinda funny, I'll give you that…but what's not so funny is how John Laurinaitis just set his crosshairs on my best friend because her boyfriend just HAD to lose his cool."

"Kaitlyn, he was threatening the man's girlfriend," Kofi countered, in his laid back style. "He's just lucky Punk let him off easy."

"Easy?" Kaityn blurted out, incredulously. "You call getting a kick in the balls and a GTS easy?"

Kofi shrugged. "If it was me, that whacked-out geezer would be having the paramedics by his side right now. I might be all chill, but when it comes to my chicks, I don't mess around."

"You have to admit, Kaitie…he had it coming," Layla offered. "I can't believe that he was willing to put AJ in that position. That girl worked her bum off just to get here, and he'd just take it all away from her—just like that, like it was nothing?"

"It's John Laurinaitis, lass, whadaya expect?" Sheamus sneered in disgust. "I've met jellyfish with more backbone that him."

Ever since that buffoon had taken over Smackdown from Teddy Long, that man had been a pain to deal with, particularly for Sheamus. He still had not forgiven Laurinaitis for fining him $500,000—money that he sent back home to his dear family and sometimes donated to children's charities—all because of that business with Brogue Kicking the referee a while back. Sheamus was only grateful that since his Wrestlemania victory to become World Champion, his own assets had ballooned to the point where he could sustain such a hit. But it didn't make the Irishman hate Laurinaitis any less.

"Not the point," Kaitlyn reminded him. "Look, I'll be the first to admit that Laurinaitis got what he deserved. But the last thing AJ needs is to get any extra heat with that man, especially if he's the one that fires people around here. Look at all the people he let go of in the last year: JoMo, Melina, Kozlov, David Hart Smith, Chris Masters—"

"All the more reason why he earned a kick in the uprights, Kaitlyn," Sheamus broke in, gently. "That man's gotta go, you know that. He's nothing but a bully and a coward throwin' his weight around ta make up fer his own shortcomings as a wrestler. The sooner he's outta here on his arse, the better off we'll be."

"I know, I know," Kaitlyn sighed, crossing her arms under her breasts as a pensive look fell on her attractive features…which Sheamus had come to find rather endearing as of late. "It's just that AJ's like a sister to me. The last time she had a boyfriend stirring up trouble in the title picture, it messed her up bad. I…I almost lost her."

A sheepish expression colored Sheamus's alabaster face, recalling that Brogue Kick which connected with Daniel Bryan's face in Miami. "Well, I reckon that I did have a wee little bit of a hand in that, I suppose."

"Oh, please, Sheamus," Layla scoffed. "You did AJ a favor. Daniel Bryan is a pig and a pipsqueak with a Napoleonic complex who treated her like dirt since they started dating. It's only a shame you didn't squash his head like a grape; it would have saved us all from those annoying 'Yes!' chants." She shook her head in disgust. "There's something wrong with a man who's yelling that word _that_ loudly unless he's getting shagged."

Off their laughter, Layla smirked. "Oh, come on, you know it's true."

"Let me tell you what is true, _senorita_," came a haughty Spanish voice that made Kaitlyn and Layla cringe, Kofi roll his eyes and Sheamus purse his lips in annoyance. "What is true is that once I get well, there will be a new World Heavyweight Champion. And his name is…Alberto Del Rio."

Slowly, Sheamus turned to face the arrogant Mexican aristocrat, flanked by his faithful servant Ricardo. Del Rio had been sidelined for about a month with a severe concussion courtesy of a massive chop from the Great Khali.

Frankly, Sheamus was glad to have a break from the pompous bastard; it made things a lot quieter and less annoying without his prattling about his destiny.

"Ah, Alberto Del Rio," Sheamus smirked in greeting. "I thought I smelled grease and the stench of too much aftershave. A tip, fella, the lasses don't really go for that smell."

Del Rio sneered in response. "I could not help but to overhear your unkind words about our esteemed General Manager, _Señor_ Laurinaitis. You should be careful, Sheamus; you never know who is around to overhear your words. Someone who might take offense to them, and tell _Señor_ Laurinaitis what you said about him behind his back. Someone who might even be rewarded with an opportunity to take your precious World Heavyweight Title off of you." His cocky smile crawled over his face. " Someone like—"

"Someone like you, right, fella?" Sheamus snorted. "Tell you what, Del Rio. The next time you want to make threats to the champ, why don't you make sure you're off the Disabled List first?"

"Oh, it's only a matter of time before I'm medically cleared, _perro_," Del Rio smirked. "I've been taking time to heal. To train, rest, recuperate. I'm coming back. Very soon, sooner than you think. And when I come back, _naco_, that World Heavyweight Championship…" he pointed to the big gold belt in Sheamus's hand. "…is going around the waist of a real champion. _Me_."

"Wow, you don't even get a little bit tired of hearing yourself talk, do you?" Kaitlyn said with a bored roll of her eyes.

Taking in the sight of the Houston-born Diva alongside Sheamus, Del Rio waved her off dismissively. "I was not talking to you, _perra._ This conversation was between men. Why don't you make yourself useful and go play with your little crazy friend, _esa locita _that dates that greasy CM Punk?"

At that, Sheamus, green eyes narrowed in anger, stepped protectively in front of Kaitlyn. "_**OY**_!" he barked angrily, nose to nose with Del Rio. "Watch yer mouth around the lass, grease ball, before I knock yer teeth so far down yer throat you'll be able to chew yer _**own**_ arse out _fer pissin' me off_!"

Kaitlyn jumped at the abrupt change in demeanor from the Great White. She had known Sheamus long enough to know that he was a great, relaxed and funny guy outside the ring. But there were times when she forgot just how fast that Irish temper could heat up, bringing out a very dangerous and powerful individual that could really hurt someone if crossed.

And for the life of her, she had no idea why…maybe it was because he was defending her honor just now…but she found that incredibly attractive about him.

He held his title in front of Del Rio's face, tauntingly. "You want this, Del Rio? Fine, then show _Señor_ Laurinaitis yer medical clearance to compete, and I'll be more than happy to kick the crap out of ye in the middle of that ring. Otherwise, I'll give ye till the count of 10 to get yer arse outta here before I kick that concussed, pompous head of yers back across the Mexican border. And fella, _I'm counting by fives_!"

"Better get the steppin', Del Rio," Kofi added sternly, before warning Ricardo—who looked like he was ready to start something—clearly, "And Tattoo, don't even _think_ about it unless you want your little butt whipped."

Taking the warning at face value, Ricardo instantly shrunk back behind his master.

The staredown between Sheamus and Del Rio was tense, volatile…until at last, Del Rio backed away with a smirk.

"Soon, Sheamus," he promised coldly as he began walking backwards towards the door. "Very soon."

"I'll be waiting, fella," the World Heavyweight Champion snorted, watching to make sure the cocky Mexican grappler had left.

Layla shook her head, repulsed by the now-absent Del Rio. "Charming fellow…in the sense that having absolutely no charm whatsoever," the British Diva muttered aloud.

"I'll say," Kofi snorted. "That boy's like school in the summertime—no class."

"You okay, big guy?" a concerned Kaitlyn asked Sheamus, noting that his eyes were still stony and hard. Gently, she laid a hand on his well-muscled shoulder.

Brought back to Earth by the soft touch of the blonde-haired Diva's hand, Sheamus allowed himself to relax. "Yeah, I'm fine, Kaitie," he gave a wan smile. "Just sorry I didn't get the chance to make a necklace outta his teeth after he talked all that crap about you."

"It's alright, Sheamus, I've been called worse," Kaitlyn shrugged it off, before softening her hazel eyes at him. "But thank you…for sticking up for me."

The Irishman smiled warmly at her, taking a moment to marvel at her hazel depths. "Don't mention it, lass. You know I've got yer back."

Oblivious to the other two as they stared into each other's eyes, neither Kaitlyn nor Sheamus saw Layla and Kofi exchange smiles at what they saw.

Layla had a suspicion that there was something going on between Kaitlyn and the chisled Irish World Champion for a little while, as did AJ. Only Kaitlyn was too bullheaded to admit it; why, Layla had no idea. Sheamus was a right catch, he was; good-looking, big-hearted, kind, brave and a gentleman despite his warrior-like demeanor in the ring.

In fact, he reminded Layla a lot of a certain Superstar that she herself had been getting cozy with lately: a certain Commander and Chief of the CeNation. But that was a story for another time… **

**(For more on that, check out "Keeping Them Apart" by PikaSixJoy, part of the Core Four Series!)**

Clearing her throat, Layla said, "Not to break up this little romantic moment, but I believe we have two reckless friends making their way backstage. Unless you two want to be alone—"

At that, both Kaitlyn and Sheamus broke apart, flustered.

"Uh, a-alone?" Kaitlyn stammered. "Why would you say that? What would—"

"Uh, yeah, seriously, you can't make jokes like that, Layla!" Sheamus added, somewhat defensively.

"Whatever," Layla waved if off casually, dropping the subject. "Let's go find our friends, shall we? I believe tonight calls for a late-night shindig of some sort to take the edge off."

"Uh, sure," Kaitlyn nodded, relieved that the topic had changed.

"Sounds good," Sheamus shrugged.

Kofi smiled in excitement. "Now we're talking! I wanna go get my dance on bad tonight."

Laughing, the four friends began walking down the corridor towards gorilla to greet Punk and AJ. Layla smiled to herself as she glanced behind her to see Sheamus sneaking a glance or two at Kaitlyn, while the former NXT winner blushed as she caught his stares.

The Flawless Brit only smirked and rolled her eyes in response. _They're so into each other. It's so obvious…_

From the shadows behind a closed off portion of the arena watching the four Superstars head down to gorilla, a large, hulking figure watched them with keen interest.

Even with the rumbling of the pipes overhead, he had overhead every word that they had said regarding the current WWE Champion and his mate. Lurking in the dark for most of your life tends to build up that skill. Becoming a really good listener.

Kane was no fool; he knew opportunity when he saw it. And he knew that Punk's latest "pipe bomb" may have just blown the door wide open for him to claim a prize that he hadn't held since 1998—the coveted WWE Championship.

He had only held it for one night, but for one night, he ruled all. For one night, the man once dubbed a freak and a monster was the king of all of sports entertainment, all witnessing his glory. And just like that, it had been taken from him. He never held that belt since.

And that thought angered him. Greatly.

He wanted it back. He needed it back. And since his return, having fully embraced hate and becoming stronger than ever, he was primed for one more chance at glory. Only he knew that sycophant John Laurinaitis would likely not want to market him as the company's champion. He didn't fit the golden boy image that the others had. Like Cena. Like Shawn Michaels. Or Stone Cold Steve Austin. The Rock. Triple H. Or even a Brock Lesnar.

He was willing to concede some credit to Punk; he had shattered that glass ceiling and ascended to new heights as champion. But while it had earned a little bit of respect from Kane, it did nothing to dim his burning desire to hold the gold once more.

Now, the time looked like it was at hand. No doubt, Laurinaitis would look to soothe his wounded pride at the expense of Punk and his precious girlfriend; that meant new challengers for the title.

But he would have to wait and see just where and when to strike. Contrary to popular belief, Kane was smarter than he let on. Calculating. And if there was one thing that he had learned in 14 years in this business, it was knowing when to attack…and when to wait.

So, he would wait. For there were many ways that he could play this, various angles through which he could approach this problem to getting back the one title he desired above all else.

Which was fine by him, he smiled darkly. The end result would still be the same. _Either way…I win._

TBC

Next: What will the backlash be after Punk's tirade against John Laurinaitis be? And just what role will Daniel Bryan play? And what happens when a night out with friends turns to trouble for Punk and AJ?

So many questions…so little time! Tune in next time!

See ya!

Jean-theGuardian


	6. Part 6

A/N: FINALLY! Jean-theGuardian…HAS COME BACK…TO FF DOT NET! Wow, I am just blown away by the positive reaction all you guys have been giving me, and this, my new OTP, Punk/AJ! Special shout out to KaneLovesTristen, D-Man, Maizeandblueid, How Do you Love Someone, Nick, CRuck, RAinbowbrite006, PikaSixJoy and RonRon10 (You're either Core Four…Or You're Nothing More! lol) bigredfox10, WhiteAsukalover, antihero32, WWETrishfan, Noraque, Lok2685, VIXXYVAMPIRE, and weaselette01 for your reviews. You guys RULE!

Well, No Way Out is this Sunday, can't wait! I'll admit, when AJ kissed Punk, I actually screamed "WHOO-HOO!" in happy Fanboy glee. But, seeing as WWE Creative can only break my heart, I'll be taking things in a different direction here. The story I want to tell between our favorite Geek Goddess and the Master of the Pipebomb is a little different than what Creative might have in mind.

By the way, I had a request to add in Wade Barrett, which I'm strongly considering right now. I don't usually take requests for story direction, but characters I'm pretty open to. Who would you guys like to see make a cameo?

Anyway, I'll be adding in more the next chapter, but I wanted to get this one down quickly. I can't recall the last time I ever wrote chapters this quickly. Lol By the way, make sure you continue to check out PikaSixJoy's "Keeping Them Apart" and RonRon10's "World Tour" for more on the Core Four Series.

But enough of that. Enjoy

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 6**

* * *

**RAW- After the Show**

**Inside John Laurinaitis's Office **

* * *

"Would you like more paper towels, sir?" asked a medical doctor as they were wrapping up their treatment of John Laurinaitis in his office, while Eve held an icepack to her head and David Otunga waved off further treatment for his shoulder, still stiff from Punk's unforgiving application of the Anaconda Vise.

"No, I don't need any more towels, now get the hell out of here! GO!" barked a bloody-nosed Laurinaitis as he angrily shooed away the EMTs.

After they were gone, Laurinaitis winced in pain, a bloody rag to his nose in one hand and an ice pack to his, er, family jewels in the other—both courtesy of CM Punk.

Very few times in his life had he ever been this humiliated, and yet it seemed that ever since Laurinaitis had first introduced himself to the WWE Universe as a public figure last year, somehow, someway, it was always Punk—_always!_—that had managed to embarrass and degrade him worse than any one of his other foes ever had. Worse than Triple H. Worse than Sheamus. Hell, even worse than John Cena.

This was just the latest one, another hit in an endless stream of potshots, insults and physical violence from that damned degenerate from Chicago. And the most public and damning of them. After being willing to put aside his disdain for that Indy circuit scum to actually put him over as the company's big fish, he was rewarded with egg thrown right in his face. His face was dripping with egg; and worse, for the Board of Directors to see.

That was his last best chance at getting the heat off him with the board, he knew that. Now, this could only worsen his standing with the board, he knew that; and it was all Punk's fault.

And for that, Punk would pay. Oh, would he _ever_ pay, Laurinaitis was going to see to that.

"Sir?" Otunga asked cautiously. "Are you alright?"

The question did nothing to sooth his anger. "Am I alright? David, my nose is bloody, my genital area has been compromised, that damn Punk just humiliated me in front of thousands of people and a worldwide audience, and I'm still short of any ideas to throw the heat off me with the Board. I couldn't _possibly_ be _further_ from alright!"

Eve and Otunga looked away for a moment, growing quiet as the magnitude of their failures sunk in. Truth be told, neither one of them particularly liked Laurinaitis, but the man's access to WWE Corporate's thick wallets had paid handsome dividends for both of them. If "Big Johnny" was ousted, so, too, would their meal tickets, meaning that Otunga would be back as a low level jobber on RAW and Eve would be left to fend for herself in a WWE locker room that she had mostly alienated since siding with Laurinaitis.

"John, we tried," Eve relented. "It all seemed like a good idea at the time—"

"Well, clearly it didn't work out, did it, Eve?" snapped Laurinaitis.

Eve lowered her eyes. "No, sir."

Eve was also livid. How could Punk not see the value of what he was being offered? Other men would have jumped at the chance that he was given; hell, that was the center of his problem with the WWE when he commandeered a microphone and sat on the stage last June 27 to deliver "The Pipe Bomb Heard 'Round the World." Now he was offered what he wanted and he just threw it away because he didn't like the source? That made no sense…and strangely, it only increased Eve's attraction to the Straight Edge Superstar.

Sure, she was ready to clobber him with his own title belt an hour ago, but what choice did Punk leaver her after attacking her boss? Laurinaitis would have had her head if he saw in the replay that she didn't lift a finger to help. But that wasn't what made her angry…that honor went to that little mousy AJ. Attacking her, raking her nerdy little fingers into Eve's expensive hairstyle, and then making out with a man that was WAY out of her league, the man that Eve now sought for herself? _Oh, hell, no. That's not going to stand with me. That little tramp's going to pay for that in spades. _

"They won't get away with that, sir," Otunga promised. "We'll promise you that."

"Damn right, they won't," Laurinaitis uttered angrily, wincing as he clutched his nose. "Punk and his little girlfriend are going to regret ever saying and doing those horrible things to me."

A knock on the door interrupted their conference. Annoyed, yet not wanting to miss out on something potentially important, Laurinaitis ground out, "Come in."

No sooner had he said those words than did Daniel Bryan walk in, his face etched in a façade of concern.

"Mr. Laurinaitis, sir, how're you doing?" the Vegan ex-World Champion asked, his voice saturated in false worry. "I just saw that horrible, disrespectful display out there, and well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It just made me sick, sir."

The truth was quite opposite. In fact, the moment Bryan saw Punk's boot plow into his moronic boss's junk, it was all a giddy Bryan could do to keep from shouting his trademark "YES! YES! YES!" out loud. Finally, he had his opportunity! It was just a matter of getting to Laurinaitis first, and faking the right amount of concern, and that WWE Championship shot would be as good as his.

Eve, however, rolled her eyes, not fooled by Bryan's insincerity for a moment. Being something of a con artist herself, it was pretty easy for her to spot another con.

"Oh, well…thank you, Daniel, your concern is touching," an oblivious Laurinaitis nodded, while clutching his still-bleeding nose. "I'm a little shaken up, but I'll be fine."

_Too easy_, Bryan smirked, inwardly shaking his head at the GM's vain incompetence.

"I'll be fine, too, Daniel," Otunga added.

In a deadpan stare, a bored Bryan responded, "Oh, good for you."

Returning his attention to Laurinaitis. "You know, sir, we can't have what happened to you happen again. I mean, kids watch this show, for Pete's sake! What kind of example would it set for them to see a…a _thug_…like Punk hold the WWE Championship and go around attacking respected authority figures like yourself?"

"What they need is someone who they can look up to as WWE Champion," Bryan pitched to Laurinaitis. "Someone who they can see as a role model, a paragon of virtue…someone who is so full of goodness that they don't even eat meat."

Laurinaitis, somewhat intrigued, asked, "What is it that you're getting at, Daniel?"

_Geez, this guy's dense_, Bryan shook his head. "What I'm saying, sir, is that if you're looking for someone that can beat CM Punk and restore the dignity, honor and prestige to the WWE Championship, well, you've found your man. I mean, aside from the fact that I am a former World Heavyweight Champion—and am single-handedly responsible for the hottest catchphrase in the WWE—I've known Punk for 10 years, wrestled him all over the country. I know all of his moves, I've studied and memorized all of his strengths and weaknesses."

Bryan smiled proudly, noting that Laurinaitis's body language was growing more intrigued. "Sir, if you're looking for the man to put Punk down for good, you need more than a man…you need a Vegan."

"Now, hold on just a minute there, _Junior_!" came a loud voice from the doorway…ushering the arrival of Y2J Chris Jericho, now in his street clothes after coming off a win against Sin Cara.

Scowling, Bryan looked on in surprise and anger at the audacity of Jericho to interrupt him.

"Now, Mr. Laurinaitis…sir," Jericho began politely, before turning disdainful blue eyes on Bryan. "Why should Daniel Bryan be next in line for a title shot against Punk? I mean, he had his chance at Over the Limit and he blew it." Turning to Bryan, he sneered. "Besides, Danny Boy, remember the way your last title reign ended? 18 seconds. I've taken pisses longer than that." Turning back to Laurinaitis. "Now, if you want someone who can beat Punk, you do need more than a man. You need someone who has proven that he could get inside Punk's head. Someone that surpasses him in every way. You need…" he gestured to himself in prideful vanity. "…the _Best in the World at Everything He Does_."

Now it was Bryan's turn to sneer. "Well, I'll hand this to you, Jericho. You _are_ the best in the world at everything you do…including losing—yes, _losing_!—to Punk, not once, not twice, but in _three_ back-to-back Pay Per Views for the WWE Title, including the most watched Wrestlemania in history. In every conceivable way, to boot." Bryan clapped his hands mockingly. "Good job, Chris! Even I couldn't top that!"

Jericho's eyes flashed angrily. "How dare you. Listen to me, you little uncharismatic, wool-faced hobbit. I've won more championships across the globe than you've had female conquests. And if anyone deserves to face Punk for the WWE Championship, it's _me_; I am a _living legend_!"

"Legend," Bryan spat, getting in Jericho's face, tired of his prattling. "That's another word for '_old'_, right…_**Senior**_?"

"You son of a bitch!" an enraged Jericho snarled as he shoved him, the two having to be separated by Eve and David Otunga.

"Whoa, Whoa, whoa! That's enough!" Laurinaitis called out, annoyed as he sat on top of his desk. "Now, both of you make very compelling cases. But it's getting pretty late, so what I'll tell you is that I'll take it under advisement, and make a decision next Monday night on RAW. But with Smackdown coming up Thursday, I'll tell you what—I'll give each of you the opportunity to impress me. Make some waves. Do something to show me what each of you bring to the table. And whoever makes the right impression on me, then I'll book him for the next WWE Title defense against CM Punk at No Way Out."

Jericho smirked. "Fine by me. Because nobody makes an impression like Y2J. Nobody. And when I get the number 1 contendership Monday night, Bryan? I'll be sure to dedicate this one to you." He threw up his hands in mockery of his catchphrase. "YES! YES! YES!"

Narrowing his eyes angrily, Bryan collected himself for a moment and then threw back, tauntingly. "Cute, Jericho. But as always, you're living in your own deluded fantasy land. And when I get named as the Number 1 contender and go on to become the new WWE Champion, I'll make sure that you never…._Eeeeever_!...get a chance to be WWE Champion…again."

Irritated that Bryan turned his own catchphrase back on him, Jericho took a moment to calm down, before throwing one more jab. "Maybe, but won't be nearly as embarrassing as say, oh…being the Vegan midget that lost his chick to the skinny fat ass, will it?"

The barb did its damage, as Bryan saw red at the thought of AJ and Punk kissing at the end of the show. "You piece of shit!" Daniel shouted in fury as he leapt at Jericho, the two exchanging blows as Eve and David tried futilely to break them up.

His patience officially lost, Laurinaitis stood up and tried to break them apart. "Stop that! Stop it right now! That's enou—_UURK_!"

But his timing could not have been worse, as tandem kick from Jericho and Daniel, intended for each other, accidentally collided…right into Laurinaitis's injured private parts.

A high pitched squeak escaped the executive's mouth, his eyes watering as he crumpled to the floor, hands clutching his devastated genitals.

Bryan and Jericho exchanged stunned glances with each other, before returning their glances towards Laurinaitis, being tended to by a frantic Eve and Otunga.

"Omigod, Johnny!" Eve exclaimed as she tried to help him into a sitting position. Glaring at the two Superstars responsible, she shouted, "You idiots! Look what you did!"

"Oh, God," Jericho muttered apologetically. "Mr. Laurinaitis, I'm so sorry, it was Bryan's fault—"

"ME!" Bryan shouted angrily. "You were the one who started it!"

"Liar!" Jericho shot back.

"Idiot!"

"Jackass!"

"G….g…guh…" Laurinaitis stammered, trying to inhale through the fiery pain.

Pausing their fight to check on the wounded GM, Bryan and Jericho leaned in closer. "What is it, sir?" Bryan offered.

"….get…out…" Laurinaitis hissed, still clutching his crushed family jewels.

Not two seconds later, both Bryan and Jericho bolted from the office, leaving Eve and Otunga to tend to their fallen boss…the final touch on what was a truly terrible night for People Power.

* * *

**Caught on WWE Backstage Fallout**

**Moments after Raw Ended**

* * *

AJ and Punk walked into gorilla, hand-in-hand, large smiles on their faces as each of them were handed a towel by a backstage assistant.

INTERVIEWER: Hey, Punk, AJ! First off, that was quite a segment out there?

PUNK: Thanks, we appreciate it.

INTERVIEWER: First off, I think the question on everyone's minds is—what were you thinking out there?

PUNK (shrugging, with a grin): What was I thinking? I was thinking 'What are the guys on 'Backstage Fallout' going to think about this?

AJ (laughing): C'mon, behave.

PUNK (smirking as he puts his arm around AJ) : Behave? You don't know me at all, do you?

(All three laugh, AJ noticeably moving in closer to Punk, reaching up and holding his hand)

INTERVIEWER: Well, on that note, I have to ask this—news of your relationship is, well, news to us. How long have you guys been together and…why keep it a secret?

PUNK (sighing): Look, I'm not really a guy who likes to do the PDA thing around where I work, and, well, I think we all know what happens when you have people close to you and you're the WWE Champion. Guys go after those things as a way to get to you, and I just don't want to deal with any of that. What happens in the ring stays there, and outside the ring, we live our lives our own way. But I'm not gonna prostitute my private life for the whole world to see, I don't believe in that.

AJ: We just wanted to keep it low key, let everything take its time…and like Punk said, this (gestures between Punk and herself) is our thing, and it's really nobody's business as to what we do or who we spend our time with. We've been fine with that, and it's been working.

INTERVIEWER: Well, that's obviously not an option any more, with Mr. Laurinaitis outing your relationship to the world. Why do you think he did that?

PUNK (frowning, bluntly): In truth? Because John Laurinaitis…is a chicken [bleep]. The guy thinks that just because he knows who I'm dating and uses the people closest to me, that he can find a way to make me do whatever he wants me to do, that I'm going to buy in to his little corporate wet dream of saying all the nice things about him that he wants fabricated. But I think I sent him a message about what I think about that. With three letters—G.T.S. Maybe when he wakes up, he'll have a little clarity as to who CM Punk is.

INTERVIEWER: And AJ? What about you? You had some pretty harsh words out there yourself. I don't think we've ever seen this side of you before.

AJ: Well, that's the thing about me. I can be really laid back, I can be really nice, but when you try to hurt the people I care about, you're gonna get a handful, I'll tell you that. (laughs)

PUNK: (squeezing AJ's shoulder, gently) She's trouble, this one. A little spitfire!

AJ: (nudging Punk, laughing) You better believe it, mister! (becomes more serious) But well, when we first started dating, I made a promise to myself that I wasn't going to get involved in Punk's business. I'm not about cramping his style, I don't want to cling, that's not me. And that's part of why I said what I said tonight. Mr. Laurinaitis can say, 'Oh, your future is depending on it, AJ! You better change his mind!' or whatever—

PUNK: You're doing it wrong, babe, you gotta add more phlegm to it.

(Punk and AJ share a laugh)

AJ: (smiling) Sorry, I suck at impressions. But, like I was saying, he can say what he wants, but at the end of the day, I made a promise, and I'm not going to be used against Punk in any way. Not like that. I went down that road before, and I'm not going back down there again. Why ruin a good thing?

INTERVIEWER: So, what's the difference between being with Punk and being with Daniel Bryan?

AJ: (smirking) Well, for starters, Punk's taller.

PUNK: Ooh! Burn!

(AJ and Punk laugh, her hand reaching up and lightly touching his chest)

AJ: (smiling) Punk's just…it's night and day. I think we all remember what I was like when I was with Daniel and after he ended things with me. But with Punk, we have a lot of the same beliefs, we like the same comics, we both don't believe in doing drugs or drinking, we're both fans of old school wrestling matches. But the main difference…the reason why Punk makes me feel like the ultimate woman…is because he's a real man.

PUNK: (smiling down at her) You are such a dork right now.

AJ: (nudging him playfully with her elbow) Shut up, you!

PUNK: (To the camera) Yes, it's true. This lovely little thing has swept me off my feet. Sorry, ladies, but the Best in the World is off the market.

AJ: (to the camera, shrugging, with an impish grin) Sorry!

INTERVIEWER: Okay, but on a more serious topic—John Laurinaitis is likely not going to be happy with you. Are you prepared to deal with the consequences of what happened tonight?

PUNK: (shrugging) Hey, listen, I've known for a long time that John Laurinaitis aka Funk Man aka the crappiest nut of the family tree that spawned the legendary Road Warrior Animal, has had it in for me since the beginning. If it was up to him, I wouldn't have even gotten on TV in the first place when I signed with this company in 2005. But I did make it, and not only did I make it, but I've done practically everything there is to do, from a competitive standpoint. WWE Champion, World Heavyweight Champion. Intercontinental Champion. Tag Team Champion. Two-time Money in the Bank winner. WrestleMania moments. Video Game Covers. I've got truckloads of people getting behind me now. And that just sticks in his craw because he's never been able to do any one of those things. I know for a fact that he's jealous of me for that, that he resents that a guy who talks and sounds like me can do as much as I've done, no matter how low he tried to smother me under the glass ceiling. But every time there's an obstacle set in my way, I go right through it. And I'll tell you what, if he keeps pushing me, then a bloody nose is going to be the least of his problems after I'm done with him. If he wants a fight, he better be ready for a war. Because that's what I'm bringing.

INTERVIEWER: And you're comfortable with that knowing that AJ might be a target now because of it?

PUNK: (shifting uncomfortably) Um…well…the thing is…uh, I don't—

AJ: (quickly) We'll jump that bridge when we come to it. But look, I might not be the biggest Diva, but I'm not scared of a fight, I'm not some little princess model type. If Mr. Laurinaitis wants to get at Punk, here's a hint—it's not going to be through me.

PUNK: (smiling as he holds her a little closer) You are so hot right now.

AJ: (ginning) Aww…I know.

(Laughter comes from both AJ and Punk)

PUNK: Hey, listen, love to keep talking, but we've got some friends waiting for us.

INTERVIEWER: Punk, wait, one more question—is there anything you'd like to say to either Mr. Laurinaitis or the WWE Universe?

PUNK: (scratching his head "thoughtfully") Yeah, yeah, I've got something to say. Hey, Funk Man! Tell Eve to stop calling me, tell Otunga to ask his wife to buy him clothes that a MAN would be proud to wear, and remember to put ice on your lady parts at least twice a day, keeps the swelling down. (winks) And to the WWE Universe…if you think what happened tonight was cool, you ain't seen nothing yet. Because things are about to get…interesting around here.

(Punk smirks knowingly, AJ chuckling alongside him, before he throws a towel over the lens and walks off, his arm draped over AJ's shoulder, AJ's arm snaked around his waist as she leans her head on his shoulders…the young couple enjoying a moment of calm before the storm)

-END TRANSMISSION-

* * *

**TBC**…

* * *

**Next**: What happens when a night out with friends turns to trouble for Punk and AJ? Well, you'll just have to wait and see ;)

* * *

Gtg. More coming soon. Read, review, and remember…DON'T. EAT. MEAT!

Lol Just kidding, go have a cheeseburger, it's full of protein!

#IStillDigCrazyChicks,

Jean-theGuardian


	7. Part 7

A/N: FF DOT NET, Are you ready? NO, I SAID….ARE…YOU…READY? What up, people! Special shout out to sbattrum, caz21, Amaroqwolf, GotToLoveCrazyChicks, Ada15, Lok2685, D-ManWhiteAsukalover, Pikasixjoy and RonRon10 (Core Four…4…Life! Lol) , Renay, LegitElizabethWWEFan, bigredfox10, VIXXY VAMPIRE, weselette01, WWETrishfan, Miserlou, CRuck, Redheaded Bandgeek and BlueWolf1923 for your reviews. You guys…are…AWWWWWEESOOOME!

Well, No Way Out has come and gone, and AJ/Punk is still going strong (yeah, we all know she helped him win back-to-back over the Big Red Goofball). Loved the good luck kiss she gave him before the match, still want a real liplock between those two, but I guess we'll have to wait and see. Very pleased to see this little ship is growing little by little. I have to insert this plug - for a great AJ/Punk video under the Mat Kearney song "Ships in the Night," visit BriePunk's FF Dot Net page, which links to her YouTube page; it's well worth the visit! I don't suppose any of you more video-savvy fans would do me a solid and maybe put together a little short trailer for Hard To Handle using the Black Crowes song, would you? Ah, whatever, I can dream, can't I? :)

Plus, Big Johnny is gone, Big Johnny is gone, Thank the Good Lord, Big Johnny is gone! Lol Well, enough of that. Enjoy!

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 7**

* * *

**After RAW - outside arena**

**30 minutes later**

* * *

Making sure that she was alone, Layla pulled out her eyephone and began scrolling down her contacts list.

Her friends were all abuzz after Punk and AJ had come through the curtain, congratulating them and laughing as Punk retold the encounter of his boot with Laurinaitis's groin. On a natural high, the couple was only too happy to join their friends on a night out to celebrate and decompress following the show.

But once everyone had dispersed to their locker rooms to change for tonight's after-party, Layla managed to sneak off to an empty corner of the arena. There was a certain someone on her mind that she was hoping to have along…or maybe 'accidentally' bump into at whatever bar or club her gang had picked as their hotspot for this evening.

The phone line rang twice, then three times, making Layla's hopes fail with each moment. _Please don't go to voicemail, please don't go to voicemail…_

" 'Sup, 'L'?" answered the smooth, yet strong voice of John Cena.

Layla's smile blossomed. "Hey, John. Whatcha doin'?"

"Nothing much," the Cenation Leader replied. "Hunter and Stephanie had me doing a gig for Make-A-Wish tonight, so now that that's settled, I'm just back in my hotel room, chillin.'"

Layla frowned in sympathy. "Long day, huh?"

"Charity, honey. You know how it is. It's all worth it for the kids, but man, I'm beat."

It had started out somewhat innocently between them, but had grown quite fast.

When Layla made her return at Extreme Rules, it came as a shock for a lot of people. After all, exactly one year ago, Layla's victory over her former best friend Michelle McCool—which forced the arrogant, yet decorated Diva into early retirement—had resulted in a torn ACL for Layla, further worsened thanks to a brutal attack by Kharma weeks later. It had taken over a year of rehab, but for the British Diva, it was all worth it when she reclaimed the Divas Title over Nikki Bella that night.

However, as she was rounding the corner to find her way to her locker room after, she ha spotted Cena alone in a corner, an intense, yet somber look on his face as he readied to take on the vicious, deadly and animalistic Brock Lesnar, recently returning with one goal in mind—end John Cena's career.

Despite her instincts to keep going and let the man prepare in peace, something in his troubled eyes gave her pause. She knew that Cena's life had been in turmoil for the last two months leading up to this match. His loss to the Rock at Wrestlemania was a devastating one, she knew, plus he had been on a losing streak as of late, and worse, she had heard his marriage had fallen apart, as he had recently filed for divorce from his wife under mysterious circumstances. He wasn't looking like the fiery, brash and confident 10-time WWE Champion at that moment; no, he was looking more like a lamb being led to a slaughter.

That troubled her; sure, Cena and her weren't exactly friends at that time, but she had always admired him, and his willingness to stand up and fight for his beliefs and for others, despite the boos that the over-18 crowd showered him with for years. But the way he was looking, there was no way that he could go in there and hope to stand a chance against a former UFC Champion and 3-time WWE Champion, one of the most barbaric, sadistic and powerful competitors in sports history.

So, taking a chance…she decided to go up and talk to him for a moment. To wish him luck. Surprisingly, Cena was more than receptive; in fact, he was rather grateful that he had someone to talk to at that moment, a way to relieve the pressure. Her parting words—_I believe in you_. _You can do this, John. Don't give up…now, kick his ass—_stuck in Cena's mind even as Brock administered the most brutal beating he had ever sustained. Even as John's arm wrenched and twisted violently, on the verge of snapping in half, in Brock's unforgiving Kimura Lock. Those words gave him the strength, the will to overcome Brock's assault, and one Attitude Adjustment on steel steps later, he had prevailed over the so-called War Machine, avenging his many losses to him nearly a decade ago.

Since then, they had begun spending quite a bit of time outside the ring together. Sometimes, just talking, hanging out in his locker room. Other times, they would just go for walks around whatever city they'd be in next, taking in the sights while talking about whatever was on their minds. Sometimes, they had dinner together…which later turned into breakfast together. In bed. It was what one might call a whirlwind courtship; and one that had made Layla quite happy as of late. But she had been keeping their relationship a secret from even her friends. John was still going through a divorce, after all, and the last thing she needed was to get a reputation as a ladder climber who was trying to sleep her way to the top—that was Eve's department as of late, not Layla's.

"Well, if you're not too beat…I'd love to be able to work some of that out of you," Layla smirked, her tone laced with naughty intent.

His deep chuckle on the other end made her knees weak; God, even the man's laugh was sexy. "Well, I am close by. Why don't you swing on by the Marriot hotel in a few and we can…unwind?"

She laughed. "No problem. But first, how's about you join me and a few friends for a night out? We're celebrating Punk's latest pipebomb."

"So I saw. I'll bet Johnny Chain Smoker got a real 'kick' out of that," he chuckled. "Punk & AJ, huh? I'll say this for that dude—he might be a loudmouth, but he's got great taste in women."

"Be nice, he's a friend," she chided gently. "So, whaddaya say? Up for a dance or three?"

"Mmm, sorry, but I'll have to pass, baby. Kofi's alright, but Punk and I aren't exactly bestest buddies, and Sheamus and I have some bad history, too; wouldn't want to make things awkward for you."

"It won't be awkward. I'll just tell them I bumped into you or…or you could hang on the other side of the club, and I'll sneak away most of the night and we can get cozy."

"I've got a president's suite where we could get plenty cozy tonight," she could hear the grin in his voice. "Plus, I could order up a couple of those white chocolate-covered strawberries you like so much. A little champagne, a couple of roses…"

"Tempting, but I promised the girls that I'd hang for a little while," Layla sighed, disappointed. "Sorry. But maybe after, I can swing by?"

There was a bit of a pause from the other line. "As long as it's not too late, sure."

"Okay…" Layla sighed, biting her lip. There was something about his tone that was bothering her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "John…is everything okay?"

"It's fine, L," he insisted. "Nothing that can't wait until later."

While she wasn't entirely sure that she believed that, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He'd never given her reason to doubt him before. "Alright. It's just that I worry, you know that."

"Don't. You know me, I'm tough."

"John…"

"Layla, it's cool. Just have fun with your friends, and I'll leave a key at the edge of the door for you when and if you get here."

"Okay…" There was a long, pregnant pause, before Layla quietly added. "…I'll miss you."

"Me, too. Hopefully, not for too long."

Her smile was faint, while her worry was still present. "Yeah. Hopefully…I'll see you soon."

"Cool. Later, honey," he replied before the phone went dead.

Pensively, Layla gently wrung the phone in her hands. She had come to care for John Cena more than she had cared for a man in some time, ever since she and the womanizing Cody Rhodes acrimoniously split more than a year ago.

John was much different from Cody, Layla mused; despite his megastar success, he had remained a humble, kind man with the heart of a child from West Newbury, Mass. The weight of his responsibilities and his challenges and critics was heavy on him, she knew that now. And she had taken pride and pleasure in helping to ease those burdens off of him as of late, at least for a little while, be it as a friend to talk to or as a lover to share his bed and her body with.

She had come to know John well enough to read some of his moods, particularly when something was bothering him. Maybe it was that he just wanted some alone time with her. Maybe it was Laurinaitis. Maybe it was something else. She couldn't say for sure.

But once she was finished making sure AJ and Punk were okay, the British Diva was intent on making it her business to find out what it was that had the new man in her life so preoccupied.

* * *

**The Thunder Ball Club- Fort Worth, TX**

**One hour later**

* * *

"Do it again, man! You have to do it again, that was classic!" Kofi pleaded through laughter.

"Okay, okay, but just one more time!" Punk snickered as he set himself into position opposite Sheamus. Faking his utmost concentration, even a few deep breaths, Punk set himself, took two running steps forward and mimicked his earlier kick tonight…faked, of course…into Sheamus's groin, the Great White playing the part of the hapless Laurinaitis.

And Sheamus, eager to play the part, did his comical impression of the GM, eyes crossed, high-pitched squeal and exaggerated pain as he bowled over on the floor.

The Celtic Warrior's impersonation had Punk and Kofi in hysterics, as well as drawing equal amounts of amused laughter from AJ, Kaitlyn and Layla.

"Hey, hey, maybe we should do one with AJ wildin' out on Eve," Kofi suggested.

"OH!" A smiling Punk pointed to his girlfriend in pride. "How can we forget my favorite part of the night?"

Off the applause she got from her friends, AJ blushed. "Aww, come on, guys, it wasn't that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?" a grinning Kaitlyn blurted. "AJ, do you know how long the Divas locker room has been waiting for someone to put Eve in her place?"

"Seriously, you're like my hero now, AJ," Layla praised her.

Kofi raised his glass in a toast. "To AJ! The Hoeski Killer!"

A loud cheer came from the six Superstars as they clanged their beers (Kofi, Kaitlyn and Sheamus) wine glasses (Layla) and Pepsi glasses (Punk and AJ, naturally) in a toast to the evening around their table.

Now, each of them had more than enough money on them to afford a VIP section at the club—which was owned by a friend of Punk's—but Punk didn't feel any different than anyone else. In his mind, he was just a guy getting off a hard day's work and blowing off some steam with his girlfriend and his pals. Although they did get a few stares and autograph requests from wrestling fans who did recognize the sextet of Superstars.

"Well," AJ relented. "Alright, it did feel a little good, I guess."

More cheers came from her admission. "Damn, girl, you really are crazy, huh?" Kofi smiled. "Going after Big Johnny's favorite call girl like that."

"Well," Punk grinned as he sat down next to AJ, throwing his arm around her. "Everyone knows that I do dig crazy chicks."

A beaming AJ snuggled in closer to Punk. "Funny thing—I dig guys who dig crazy chicks," she winked at him.

"_Do_ you now?" Punk smirked.

"You know it," AJ smiled as they leaned in for a kiss.

"Awwwww," their friends said in a syrupy, teasing chorus.

"Get bent," Punk jokingly snapped, drawing their laughter. Amid the laughter, Punk noticed that Sheamus and Kaitlyn had elected to sit next to each other, shoulder to shoulder and looking rather cozy in each other's close proximity.

Punk had to smile at that; AJ had told him how he and Kaitlyn had been doing this awkward mating dance with each other for a little while. With any luck, those two would finally hit it off; the big guy needed a chick in his life. He also noticed Kofi relaxing somewhat comfortably next to Layla, looking to get his flirt on—but unlike Kaitlyn's welcoming body language with Sheamus, the gorgeous ex-Miami Heat dancer seemed a little less relaxed, only giving Kofi a friendly smile and keeping her eyes on her friends.

A shame, Punk mused. He knew that Kofi had the hots for Layla for a while now, but clearly the British Diva didn't feel the same. _Just the way things worked out sometimes, I guess._

It wasn't long after before the group began to split into guys and girls, each of them needing to discuss things.

"Punk, man, you really stepped in it this time," Kofi smirked. "You know that Laurinaitis is gonna come after you full-speed ahead, don't ya?"

"Kofi, of all the things in life to be scared of, a washed-up wrestler-slash-suit monkey in his late 40s driving around a scooter that goes 5 miles an hour, tops, isn't on my list," Punk smiled, downing his Pepsi.

Sheamus shook his head in amusement. "Was still worth it to see that look on his face when you knocked him in the knackers, Punkers. As soon as they have the pics up on the web, I'm gonna make a poster outta that."

"Poster? Why in God's name would you want to look at that idiot's face when you get home?" Punk joked. "Put it somewhere useful…like on your toilet seat."

Sheamus laughed in approval as he patted him on the back while he downed his Guinness. "Now there's an idea, fella! You n' me can get the patent, split the earnings and there's life after wrestling fer us."

"Punk, seriously, man," Kofi tried to steer the conversation back to the original theme. "Laryngitis is going after you. Both you and AJ. You're telling me that you're not just a little bit worried about that?"

His words had a sobering effect on Punk, the smile gone and a serious look on his face. "Look, of course, I'm worried. I mean, AJ's my girl. But she's also tough; she's proven that a few times, and especially tonight."

"But you know that old bastard plays dirty, Phil," Kofi countered. "Look, I'm leveling with you—I know you can handle whatever he throws at you. But AJ isn't used to that kind of heat. The last time she got close to that kind of heat, she snapped. Now, you know I love AJ, but frankly, I'm not sure if the girl can handle it."

"She can handle it," Punk insisted, getting annoyed. "What was the alternative, huh, Kofi? If she didn't show up, that would have been insubordination, and she'd be sitting here with a pink slip right now. At least, if we stick together, she has a fighting chance."

"You sure about that?"

"_Yes_," Punk snapped. "Look, can we not talk about that right now? I'll have plenty of time to figure out how to handle that by the time Smackdown rolls around. We're having a good time here, why spoil it by talking about Clown Shoes?"

"Yeah, I suppose yer right, Punk," Sheamus shrugged casually. "But last word on this—just take care o' yer girl. You've got a fight on yer hands now, boy-o. And that horse's arse Laurinaitis ain't gonna pull his punches."

Punk swigged down his Pepsi as he pondered those words. He didn't allow it to be too conscious a thought, but the fact was that he was thinking the exact same thing. Punk had been through some wars in his day, but going up against Laurinaitis wasn't like anything that he had ever done before. Not that he was scared of the challenge—in fact, he was looking forward to it—but there was a huge difference going into something like this alone, with just himself to worry about, than it was when someone he cared about was in harm's way. There was no going back now, though; Laurinaitis had both him and AJ in the crosshairs, there was only one way to do this—fire his best shots and keep her as safe as he could from the shrapnel that would inevitably be raining down on them.

"Let me worry about that, Sheamo," Punk replied as his eyes briefly wandered towards AJ, sitting and talking with her friends. "I got this."

Looking at Sheamus, he decided to change the topic of conversation. "From what Kofi told me, I hear that I'm not the only one with people looking to take me down. What was that about Alberto Del Boring talking smack backstage?"

Sheamus's face soured at the mention of the cocky Mexican grappler. "Ah, 'twasn't a big deal. That oily slimeball seems to forget that an injured man doesn't have a place flappin' 'is gums 'round healthier, bigger men. We traded a few barbs and then he ran away like a pup with its tail under its legs."

A knowing smile came on Punk's pierced lips. "Sure a belt was the only reason things got so heated between you two? Because the way I heard it, you kinda got hot under the collar after Del Rio started talking smack about a certain pretty blonde Diva we're hanging out with."

Sheamus, flustered, tried to play it down. "It had nothing to do with it, fella. I'da been just as pissed if he had talked that way to AJ or Layla or any other Diva. Me darlin' mother taught me to respect women."

"Oh, come on, Sheamo," Kofi cajoled. "I think we all know you've got it bad for Kaitie."

"Drop it, Kofi, or I'll drop you," Sheamus all but growled as he took another gulp of his Guinness.

"Dude, c'mon," Punk shook his head, cocking his head towards Kaitlyn, who just happened to be glancing their way at that moment. A shy smile crossed her lips as she caught Sheamus's eyes on her before she rejoined her friends' discussion. "Kaitlyn's a hottie. She's cool, she's funny, great body, what's keeping you from making a move?"

"Nothin', alright?" Sheamus replied defensively, before he sighed. "It's just…I mean, how do I even know that I'm even her type? I've seen the fellas she's been into. Ziggler, that Bateman fella, they're pretty boy types. I wouldn't consider meself ugly, mind you, but I don't think a guy with flaming spikey hair and sheet-white skin is the kind o' man she'd be into."

"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit, Big Guy," Punk said, encouragingly. "You a big, strong guy, the reigning World Champ, and from what I hear, I think she might dig you a little."

The Irishman's eyes turned to Punk, a hopeful smile on his face. "Yeah? Ya think so?"

"Oh, yeah," Punk nodded. "Go on, Sheamo. Ask her for a dance or something. But please, for the love of God, just stop with the sneaking looks at each other like a couple of lovesick, zit-faced teens and just have at it already. Geez."

"Shaddup," Sheamus groused as he half-heartedly shoved Punk's shoulder. Yet Punk and Kofi had to hid their grins as a determined look crossed the Great White's eyes before he downed another shot of liquid courage, stood up, adjusted the collar on his light blue dress shirt and slowly began making his way over to the girls, his eyes set on Kaitlyn.

"I kinda feel like we should be doing the 'Jaws' theme now," Punk smirked.

"Yup," Kofi laughed. "Great White on the prowl. Look out, Kaitlyn."

Meanwhile, on the other end of the club, AJ, Kaitlyn and Layla were all heavily engrossed in the nights events, when Sheamus made his presence known.

"So, Kaitie," Sheamus started, and AJ could have sworn that the Dublin brawler looked a little nervous.

Surprised, Kaitlyn's attention was completely focused on him. "Uh, yes, Sheamus?" she asked, with a smile.

The music of Flo Rida's "Wild Ones" single was playing through the club by now. "So, uh, I was wondering, er… that is, if yer up fer it, and all, uh…maybe you'd like a spin on the floor with me, or something?"

As AJ and Layla gave each other shocked, yet excited grins, Kaitlyn's lips twitched in a surprised smile. "Are you…asking me to dance?"

"Well, uh…that is, if ye don't mind," Sheamus shrugged, trying to go for being cool.

With a gentle nudge, AJ elbowed her best friend to go. Nudging her back, Kaitlyn turned her hazel eyes back to Sheamus, beaming a pleased smile.

"Okay, Big Guy…show me what you got," she winked.

The grin on Sheamus's face was a mile wide as he took the blonde's hand. "Ooh, careful what ye wish fer, darlin'," he drawled as they made their way to the dance floor. "Ye just might get it."

Once Sheamus and Kaitlyn were fairly out of sight and too engrossed in each other on the floor, AJ and Layla laughed and gave each other hi-fives.

"Well, it's about damn time," AJ smiled with a pleased headshake. She had been trying to get Kaitlyn to work up the nerve to make a move on Sheamus for some time now, but Kaitlyn had been ridiculously gun shy—some nonsense about not wanting to get a rep as a locker room bike, which was ridiculous because everyone knew that Eve held that distinction.

"I'll say," Layla smirked. "Good for them. They look good together." Turning back to AJ. "Kinda like you and Punk do."

A dreamy smile came over AJ's face as she snuck a glance at her beau. "I like to think so, too."

"AJ, level with me," Layla asked her seriously. "You know you're gonna get some heat for what happened tonight."

A sense of resignation fell on her as she realized how much her professional life was about to change, yet AJ shrugged. "Don't care."

"Really? Not even a little?"

"What else was I supposed to do, Lay?" AJ sighed as she idly turned the soda glass in her hand. "Get on my hands and knees and beg Punk to do something I know he would have hated just to keep me out of the dog house with management? No way. I'm done being a puppet for other people to use."

"Well, I can't say I fault you for that," Layla nodded, then frowned as she thought back to the days where she played a similar role for her so-called best friend Michelle as the infamous tandem known as LayCool. "I had my share of experience being a puppet myself."

"Exactly!" AJ exclaimed, sinking back into the soft leather of their booth, as her own unwanted memories of following Daniel's orders like a lovesick puppy flickered in her mind's eye. "I had to draw the line. If it didn't stop there, then where would it stop? Laurinaitis isn't going to use me against Punk the way Daniel used me against, well, everybody."

"You're right," Layla agreed. "And I'll back your play, AJ, but, sweetie, just…promise you'll be careful, okay?"

AJ smirked knowingly. "You know me."

"Kinda why I said it, darling," Layla smirked back, as the two shared a laugh.

Moments later, Punk and Kofi meandered their way to their table, Punk slinging his arm over AJ's slender shoulder.

"So, it looks like the lovebirds finally got their heads out of their asses, eh?" Punk joked, motioning to Kaitlyn and Sheamus as they danced on the floor, the big man laughing and joking with Kaitlyn as she willingly allowed his hands to slide across her waist as they moved to the music.

"Took 'em long enough," AJ agreed as she leaned her head on his shoulders.

"No kidding," Kofi agreed, before he looked to Layla and motioned to the floor. "Care for a spin on the floor, m'lady?"

Shrugging casually, Layla said, "Sure, what the hell. But just one, I've got to skedaddle in a little while."

As the pair walked onto the dance floor, Punk shook his head. "Poor Kofi," he said to AJ. "Dope doesn't even realize that Layla's not interested."

AJ sighed. "I know…all she told us when we talked to her was that someone caught her eye recently, but when we pressed her on who, she was being all coy. But she swears it's not Kofi." A pause. "Poor guy. I know he had his heart set on her."

"Love works in crazy ways, babe," Punk mused as he stroked her hair. "I mean, look at us."

AJ laughed as she reached up and intertwined her fingers with Punk's. "Point taken, sir."

Her smile faded somewhat as she saw the still-serious face of Punk looking down at her. "AJ…about tonight—"

"Punk, save it," she shushed him. "It's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."

"No, it is a big deal," Punk argued. "You were right. I've got a fight coming, and a big one. I just don't want you to feel like you've got to be in the middle of this—"

"Phil, I'm in the middle of this now whether you like it or not," AJ replied, her reply not overly brave, but not exactly timid, either. It was more akin to being matter of fact. "I knew what I signed up for when I went out there."

His sigh was guilt-ridden. "I guess I just feel guilty that you've gotta be dragged into my mess."

"Don't worry about me, baby," she assured him, reaching up to stroke his face, her cool touch sending a shiver of pleasure across Punk's skin. "I'll be fine. I'm a big girl, I can handle it. You had my back when I needed someone most. Let me have your back now."

"Yeah, but, AJ, I just—"

She reached up and silenced his protests the best way she knew how…with her mouth. And the sweet taste of her tongue and cherry-flavored lip gloss had its effect, Punk briefly forgetting his worries and concerns and just savoring…her. Comic nerd. Geek Goddess. A-dork-ably irresistible.

As their lips parted, she looked up at him, her eyes half-closed as she relished his scent. "You just what?"

It took him a few seconds before his brain caught up with her after that scorching hot kiss. "I'm sorry, where we talking about something?"

She smiled warmly as she traced his beard. "Nothing that can't wait."

While they sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, that ended once the DJ began playing a retro rap track of the hip-hop classic, "Shook Ones, Part 2" by Mobb Deep.

_Good taste_, Punk nodded, as he had a thing for the vintage rap stuff. To his surprise, he looked down to see AJ bobbing her head in tune. "Oh, I love this song," she said, eyes closed as she took in the beat.

That caught Punk a little off guard. "Uh, honey, you know that's rap, right?" To his knowledge, AJ had never brought up liking old school rap during their time together.

Her response was a simple shrug. "Yeah, I know. Mobb Deep. Great song."

Okay, now he was full on surprised. "You actually know who Mobb Deep is? Why has this never come up before?"

"Well, if you weren't so busy trying to outscore me on Halo 2, or getting in my pants, maybe you might have learned something," she smirked before she slowly trailed her hand up his chest. "Can we dance to this one time? Please?"

Punk groaned. He was up for just about anything normally except four things: booze, drugs, guys and dancing. "Babe, you know I hate dancing."

"Oh, come on," AJ cajoled him gently, trailing her hand down his chest. "You know, a dance might get me in the mood for...later."

At that, he did a double take. "Later, huh?" he smiled at the thought. "You're serious?"

"If it means getting you to shake that ass on the dance floor with me, hell, yes," she chuckled mischievously.

Punk laughed at her cute expression. "All right, what the hell," he smirked, taking her by the hand as they stood up. "Show me what you got, guurrl."

"Just hold onto your undies, boooy," she winked at him as they wandered towards the dance floor. "For the moment, at least."

Punk wasn't disappointed as his hands explored her fit, trim waist while they danced to the steady beat of Mobb Deep. She moved with grace, yet with a spunky sass to her movements; decidedly feminine, yet with a style uniquely her own.

As her lithe frame swayed and rocked in his grip, the scent of perfume, bubble gum shampoo and her own natural pheromones peppering his senses, it was all he could do to keep from ripping off her shirt and taking her right then and there.

Reining his thoughts in, Punk shook his head and flashed an intrigued smile. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you knew Mobb Deep's music."

AJ shrugged with a coy smile. "All you had to do was ask."

"I just figured you'd be into something more…contemporary."

She smirked in response. "You mean 'poppy.'"

He chuckled. "Well, I was trying to be polite, for once…"

"What, you don't think I know a little old school rap just because I like Pokemon and comics?"

"Didn't really seem like it was your cup of tea," Punk relented.

Her eyes seemed to register that as a challenge. "Really?"

He only smirked in reply. "Really."

They held that challenging stare for a few moments, and then she did the one thing that Punk had never expected AJ to do—she began to rap. Old school, to the lyrics of Mobb Deep:

"_I'm only nineteen but my mind is old  
and when the things get for real my warm heart turns cold  
another n***a deceased, another story gets told  
it ain't nothin' really  
hey, yo dun spark the Phillie  
so I can get my mind off these yellowbacked n****s"_

And now, Punk's mind was officially blown. He had no idea his girlfriend was that cool.

_"Why they still alive I don't know, go figure  
meanwhile back in Queens the realness is foundation  
if I die I couldn't choose a better location"_

Unable to resist as she smirked and spat rhymes like she had stepped out of the "8 Mile" movie, Punk joined in on her fun.

"_When the slugs penetrate you feel a burning sensation  
getting closer to God in a tight situation  
now, take these words home and think it through  
or the next rhyme I write might be about you"_

He could see the spark in her eyes, the twinkle as she was having fun, just goofing around with her beau. And as she leaned with her back against him, her sylphlike little figure swaying back and forth to the beat against his larger frame, he'd be damned if this smiling, geeky, kinda kooky little chick wasn't the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"_Son, they shook...  
'cause ain't no such things as halfway crooks  
scared to death, scared to look  
they shook  
'cause ain't no such things as halfway crooks  
scared to death, scared to look_"

Unbeknownst to them, making their way alongside them from the front of the club, three individuals were approaching the WWE Champion with intentions that were anything _but_ about having fun.

As he held onto AJ's figure, their lips barely a breath apart, Punk suddenly felt a shoulder unceremoniously bump into him.

"OOPS!" came a condescending and cocky voice. "Sorry, sir, I—oh, well look who it is…if it isn't the WWE Champion in all his glory in a place of drink and sin. How…hypocritical."

Punk's sharp eyes narrowed, instinctively brushing a surprised AJ behind him, as he beheld the arrogant and aggressive faces of Chris Jericho, Cody Rhodes and Drew McIntyre.

Punk's eyes zeroed in on his old nemesis. "Hey, Jericho. Where's your little Christmas ornament jacket? Back in storage until after Thanksgiving?"

Jericho merely smirked. "Funny, Punk, very funny. Figures I'd find you here after your little show on Raw. Probably toasting to a drink along with the rest of these sheep."

"Well, now that you mention it, the Pepsi here is especially delicious," Punk smirked as he imitated Jack Black's character in "Nacho Libre," which AJ stifled her laughter at, as the situation they were in was anything but funny.

"And so, what brings you here, Chris? Celebrating your crappy band's latest album which you guys couldn't give away if you were offering it with ice cream? No, wait, let me guess, you're here to toast your latest reality TV show deal playing a drama queen in a house full of washed-up celebrities. What's the title—'I'm-an-attention-whore-now-get-me-outta-here?' Or whatever pathetic attempt you're trying at to pretend you're more famous than you actually are?"

Chris's nostrils flared, and AJ could tell that Punk's dig actually got under his skin. _Good_, a part of her thought, despite the situation. She had remembered Jericho's vicious assaults on Punk and his family's reputation earlier this year, especially the pouring of alcohol all over Punk and how that whiskey bottle smashed across Punk's skull. Being straight edge herself, AJ was rather horrified back then when she saw those attacks. Jericho, in her eyes, was just a spineless coward and a repulsive individual through and through.

"Actually, I'm here to tell you that your days of being on top are over. I just went to John Laurinaitis himself, and he assured me that if I make an impression, he'll grant me the next WWE Championship shot against you at No Way Out."

"And of course, since you're too much of a chicken shit to anything by yourself, you brought along the Paper Bag Man of Porcupine Peak," Punk snarked as he pointed to Rhodes. "And a guy who hasn't won a match since Nexus was still around," he pointed at McIntyre. "Nice backup, Jericho. What, the Brooklyn Brawler and Doink the Clown weren't around? Because they would've been much more intimidating."

AJ gulped as she watched the flames of what was sure to be a Pier 6 brawl about to erupt. Looking over to Kaitlyn and Sheamus, she tried to signal her friends with her eyes, hoping that they could stop flirting long enough to lend a hand.

"Watch your mouth, Punk," Rhodes challenged. "Jericho's not the only one who wants a piece of your title. I mean, everyone knows I'm the future of this company."

"Oh, please, Cody, you?" Punk smirked. "You might have that fake spray-on tan and the underwear model fake muscles going, but everyone knows you're as soft as a pop tart. You're as much the future of this company as…well, as Drew here." Off the simmering face on the Scottsman, Punk waved cheekily. "Hey, Drew! How's that whole 'Chosen One' thing working out for you during all the dark matches you wrestle these days?"

Drew looked to lunge for Punk, when Cody and Jericho held him back. "Not yet," Jericho warned.

Those words were not lost on AJ, verifying her suspicions that this was only going to end violently.

Jericho's condescending look fell across his face again. "Oh, so typical of you, Punk. The class clown act, the smarmy jokes. But who're you trying to fool? You're not even in my league. All you are is a—"

"Is this the part where you talk about my family and drug abuse?" Punk inquired, his eyes taking on a decidedly more serious edge. "You haven't had any original material since 2002, have you? Kinda like how you keep repeating the same lame catchphrase over and over that you're the best in the world at what you do. Well I'll give you this, Jericho—nobody gets their ass kicked by me quite like you do. I mean, if me kicking your ass was an Olympic sport, you'd be Carl freakin' Lewis, that's for damn sure. But as far as what happens in a wrestling ring, until further notice, I am still the Best in the World. Which makes me a whole lot better…than you."

Punk had known by now that despite Jericho priding himself at being a Mental Mastermind, he was still one vain little troll, and it didn't take much to set him over the edge. Pushing his buttons wasn't all that difficult; just attack his vanity and you'd have him seething…kinda like he was now.

"You think you're funny, don't you, Punk?" Jericho said challengingly. "Just remember, boy—when Chris Jericho wants something, he gets it. I'm accustomed to getting what I want. And what I want is to see you beaten down, broken and bloodied at my feet—"

"Oh, who cares?" AJ sighed, having grown tired of his antics. "You're like a broken record that keeps skipping over and older, Jericho. So, why don't you take your two boyfriends and that haircut you stole from Bon Jovi and buzz off?"

To say that Punk was surprised at her little outburst was an understatement. On one hand, he was kinda impressed, seeing some of that famous spunk of hers rearing its head again. On the other hand, he was hoping to be able to keep her shielded mostly from this latest trio wanting to get a piece of him.

The shocked and offended look on Jericho's face slowly turned into a smile that Punk didn't like in the least.

"And what do we have here?" Jericho laughed as he tried to inch closer to her. "Your little girlfriend, Punk? Is she even old enough to be out this late? Isn't it past her bedtime?"

Pushing himself in front of AJ, Punk stood nose-to-nose with the Canadian grappler. "You come near her again, Jericho, and the only one that's going to go to sleep around here is you."

"Now I've seen everything," Jericho mocked him. "Look at you, Punk. You used to be cutthroat SOB. You were the guy that ended Jeff Hardy's WWE career, the man who belittled Rey Mysterio in front of his family, you used to not care about anything but the win…now you're playing white knight to a crazy, sniveling little prepubescent girl that's probably still hung up on that half-pint Daniel Bryan. You're almost as pathetic as your alcoholic dad and your drug-addict sister."

Punk's fists began to clench hard, AJ noticed. She could feel him tense up, his eyes narrowed. But the last thing she wanted was for him to get into trouble over a jackass like Jericho.

"Phil," she whispered quietly, though his eyes never left Jericho. "Come on, just forget about him, let's go."

"Yeah, Punk, run away," Jericho taunted him. "Let your little woman order you around instead of doing something about it like a real man."

Jericho smiled infuriatingly as he saw the anger build on Punk's face, thinking he was getting inside his head…until he saw Punk merely smile. "Real man, huh? Funny you should say that, Chris. Because I sometimes used to hang out with Trish Stratus, your old flame, and uh, according to her, she dumped you for Christian because in the bedroom, you, uh, came up on the…short end…of the stick?"

The grin on the face of the Ayatollah of Rock N Rolla fell as Punk laughed at him. Despite the situation, AJ couldn't help but to laugh at Jericho's comically stunned expression…until she saw Rhodes and McIntyre begin to slowly flank them, with no help in sight yet.

"Hope you enjoyed that joke, Punk," sneered Jericho as a now-serious Punk began to shield AJ as he kept his eyes on his three would-be assailants. "Because it's about to cost you a couple of weeks worth of hospital bills."

"_Oy, what's the crack, fellas_?" came the loud voice of Sheamus from behind as McIntyre turned…right into a solid fist that caught him full in the mouth, staggering him backwards.

Rhodes moved in to help out Drew, when Kofi came flying in from the side and tackled him to the ground. Amid the chaos, noticing that Punk was still shielding AJ from the fight, Jericho lunged at him with a glass mug that he yanked out of a customer's hands, aiming right for the champion's head.

Spotting him coming, AJ blurted out, "Look out!" before she, in a lightning-fast move, grabbed a nearby serving tray from a waitress and brought it down across Jericho's face with as much force as her 95-pound, deceptively strong frame could muster.

Stunned, Jericho reeled back as Punk caught him with a hard roundhouse kick to the head that sent him flying into the side of the serving bar. Punk pounced on him, hammering the blonde man's skull with hard fists while Kofi and Sheamus dispatched the others, while AJ, Kaitlyn and Layla looked on, the latter two actually shouting "Kick his ass, Sheamus!" and "C'mon, Kofi, let him have it!"

It wasn't long before security came and broke up the fight, pulling the combatants apart. As witnesses had told them that it was Jericho's boys that had started the fight, and since Punk's friend owned the place, the large bouncers wasted no time in sending the men packing.

"This isn't over, Punk!" a bloody-mouthed Jericho threatened as the burly bouncer held him by the arms as he was unceremoniously dragged out the door. "You just wait until Smackdown! You just wait!"

"Looking forward to it, old timer," Punk barked back, before turning back to AJ. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him as she reached up with her soft, small hands and began checking his face for injuries. "What about you, baby? You okay?"

Punk sighed, smiling a little. "Better than I would have been if that sneaky dick cracked me in the head with another glass bottle."

"That's twice in one night I saved your butt," AJ teased.

Punk shook his head as a chuckle left his lips. "First Eve, then Jericho…Christ, woman, you really are nuts, aren't you?"

She shrugged with a smile. "I'm just misunderstood, sometimes."

"What am I gonna do with you?"

She threw her arms around his neck in response. "I think the question is—what would you do without me?"

Punk smiled as he wrapped his arms around her waist, ignoring the smiling faces of his friends.

His answer brought a smile to her lips before his own claimed hers with a kiss. "At this rate…I'm hoping I never find out."

* * *

**TBC…**

* * *

Sorry if the ending sucked. It's late, and I have a long day tomorrow. The next chapter should probably be centered around Smackdown. Again, I'm only drawing inspiration from WWE programming, but I'm not following the storylines verbatim. I have my own tale to tell. Read, review, and remember to hug your local crazy chick. Gotta love 'em!

Later,

Jean-theGuardian


	8. Part 8

One week since I last updated this story? _Are_ _you serious, bro_? lol

What up, my Peeps! Major shout out to Deadliest Priestess for kicking my muse in the ass and getting me to finish the next chapter, and big shout-out to everyone who reviewed including cneal555234, MarrytheNight25, Crazychick44, Unbeleivably Random, Miserlou, Risinggirl108, ChainGangSolja, PeoplePower1 (really? That's your name? lol) himymalices28, D-Man, heidipoo, Amaroqwolf, Lok2685, BlueWolf1923, WhiteAsukalover, YesMan, PunkFruityPebble, KaneLovesTristen, weaselette01, GotToLoveCrazyChicks, wingster55, CRuck, sazbelle, bigredfox10, AmandaEchelon, VIXXY VAMPIRE (Yes, I will add in your song request in the next chapter somewhere ;) ) Redheaded Bandgeek, and my brothers-in-writing PikaSixJoy and RonRon10 (We are the Nation…The Core Four Nation! Lol)

Never would I think that the words King Kong Bundy would ever be synonymous now with my favorite new couple, but that is the brilliance of CM Punk, isn't it? (Was I the only one who thought that scene between them this past Monday was cute as all hell?)

Who Else voted 20 times for Punk/AJ on that Twitter poll Monday? LOL And it WON! Further proof that the WWE Universe still Digs Crazy Chicks and even more irrefutable proof that Punk & AJ = STILL better than Twilight! : )

Thanks for all the reviews, guys, and if you wanna chat, PM me, leave a review or look me up on facebook under the name Jean-theGuardian. I'll be around. Anyway, enough of that. Enjoy!

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 8**

* * *

**The Thunder Ball Club - Parking Lot**

**Later**

* * *

It had barely been a few minutes since Punk and AJ bid goodbye to their friends as they headed into their car and drove back to their hotel room. Of course, first Punk had checked out Kofi and Sheamus for their sobriety, as they had driven together. The girls didn't really drink much, so Punk figured that they would be alright, and after exchanging a hug and their Chickbusters handshake, AJ and Kaitlyn made plans to talk over lunch the next day.

By the time they had left, it was well past 2 a.m. and the remaining quartet were heading out to the parking lot.

"Well, that was a rousing evening," Layla noted as she yawned, stretching upwards. However, the innocent gesture gave Kofi an appreciative view of her shapely figure wrapped in a slinky purple dress, making him swallow hard and try to not focus at how her endless dedication to working out and training paid incredible dividends for that voluptuous body she possessed.

"No kidding," Kaitlyn smirked, then looked at Sheamus, who was walking alongside her shoulder-to-shoulder. "By the way, nice right hand you threw at Drew back there."

"Boxing lessons," Sheamus replied with a proud smile. "Hunter hooked me up with that Floyd Mayweather fella who did a 'Mania spot fer the company a while back; lessons have been paying off, I suppose."

He shook his hand, his knuckles still red and bruising from the fight. "Although, I'm gonna be feelin' it in the mornin', fer damn sure."

Kaitlyn smiled in pity. "Aww, your poor hand."

As she took his bruised hand into her smaller ones, Sheamus felt the hairs on his arm stand at her gentle touch, surprised at how…good…it felt. The rest of her felt even better when he was pressing her against his frame on the dance floor. In fact, he and Kaitlyn were having a moment when he spotted Jericho and his boys cornering Punk and AJ across the club.

Growing up in Dublin, Ireland, Sheamus was never exactly what one might call a chick magnet. Chubby, red haired and pale, his date card was fairly vacant back then…at least until he got into wrestling while doing the Information Technology thing later in life. The rigorous training he underwent at the Larry Sharpe's Monster Factory wrestling school melted that fat and molded him into a statuesque fighter's body while he developed his killer instincts in the ring. But even while his newfound physique and natural charm had given way to more female admirers, he hadn't really had a lot of time for dating. And after the breakup with his last girlfriend, he had sworn off women for a little while, the better to concentrate on his title pursuits with.

But after meeting Kaitlyn when he was transferred to Smackdown last year, he was quickly smitten by the blonde Houston native. Looks aside—and she was a hell of a looker, Sheamus admitted to himself—she had a way about her that both calmed and excited him. Her jokes could make him laugh as easily as her soothing words could be a balm for him during tough spots. When Laurinaitis fined him $500,000 two months ago—which meant he had to postpone a donation to a children's hospital in Dublin and money he had planned on sending to his family—he flew into a berserker-like rage backstage, throwing equipment, frightening the backstage crew and trashing anything he could get his hands on. It was only Kaitlyn's calming words—_You can't let him get to you, Sheamus. Please…that's what he wants. You're better than that, and you're better than him—_and her patience in listening to his furious ranting that finally quelled Sheamus's hot anger, and likely saved him a suspension. His feelings for the blonde had intensified since that time, leaving him to ponder whether pursuing her in a more romantic way would ruin the good thing he had going with her friendship right now.

Sheamus smiled down at Kaitlyn. "It's been through worse, Kaitie. I'm a tough one. I'll live ta fight another day."

Catching sight of the shy smile on Kaitlyn's face, Layla rolled her eyes. The dance was a good start for the two, Layla figured, but if Kaitlyn insisted on doing this hot-and-cold game, she was going to lose out on the big lug. That being said, the British Diva figured it was time to give them a little nudge in the right direction.

"Oh, damn it all!" Layla snapped her fingers in dismay as she "checked" her cell phone. "I just got a text from one of the tech guys. They need me back at the arena for something urgent."

"What?" Kaitlyn exclaimed. "But Lay, you're my ride back! The hotel's like 10 miles from here, what am I gonna do?"

Layla turned her eyes to Sheamus. "Hey, Sheamus, aren't you staying at the same hotel as Kaitie? Would you be a darling and give her a ride back for me, luv?"

At that, Kaitlyn and Sheamus turned hesitant eyes towards each other.

"Well, uh…I do have plenty of space in me car," Sheamus offered hesitantly.

"Um, well, I…I wouldn't want to be a burden or anything," Kaitlyn cautiously replied.

"Oh, no, don't fret about it, lass," Sheamus waved it off, with a smile. "I could use the company."

She smiled back. "Oh, well, in that case…I guess a ride back wouldn't hurt."

"Splendid!" Layla grinned, turning to Kaitlyn. "I've gotta run, but I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Cool. Stay safe, Lay," Kaitlyn nodded, giving her and Kofi a hug before she turned back to Sheamus. "My hotel, my good sir?"

"But of course, milady," he smiled winningly, which drew a giggle from her as she entered his passenger seat. Turning to Layla so only she could see, he grinned and mouthed silently, "Thank you."

"You owe me," she quietly mouthed back and winked, after which Sheamus and Kaitlyn drove off back to the hotel…taking a nice scenic route where they could talk on the way.

"Smooth," Kofi nodded in approval, knowing full well that she didn't have any text on her phone.

"One of my many talents," Layla shrugged with a smile.

"Divas Champion, matchmaker…is there anything you can't do?" Kofi smirked.

"Cooking," she quickly replied with a laugh. "I'd starve to death without a microwave."

"So, uh…what are you gonna do now?" Kofi inquired, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Picking up a flirtatious vibe, Layla tried to diffuse it. She had the feeling for some time that she had caught Kofi's eye—she wasn't blind to the way he stared at her just now while she stretched—but sadly, she just wasn't feeling that vibe. Kofi was a great guy in her eyes, and if things were different, then maybe she might even try a date or two with him…but as nice and sweet a guy as Kofi was, these days Layla only had eyes for one man. A man that was waiting on her right now, no doubt…

"Oh, um, I'm just going to turn in," Layla shrugged. "Lots to do tomorrow and all that, flight to catch."

"Oh, uh, by the way, I scored a few concert tickets to Beyonce this weekend," Kofi said as a hopeful smile came on his face. "Um, I know that's she's one of your faves."

_Gulp,_ was the thought that came to Layla's mind as she tried to come up with an excuse. "Oh, um…this weekend? Sorry, but I've got a few things I really need to take care of. Personal finance stuff. You know how it is."

"Oh," was the disappointed sound that came out of Kofi's mouth. "Well, um, that's okay. Uh, well, maybe next time?"

"Uh, sure," Layla politely smiled. "Maybe."

Kofi frowned at that. He knew a fake smile when he saw it. "Layla, look," he sighed. "All right, I realize that I'm about to put our friendship on the line here, but I've got to be real with you. I…I like you, alright? I think you're great. And I was kinda hoping that…well, maybe you and I could spend a little time together where we could, you know, get to see if maybe there's something there."

Off his sincere face, and the sweetness in his eyes, Layla felt positively horrible. The last thing she wanted to do was to jeopardize her friendship with Kofi, but she didn't want to give him any false hopes, either. "Kofi, I…"

"She's not interested, Mop Head," came a snide voice from alongside them…one belonging to Cody Rhodes. "Layla's got a certain type. And you just don't fit the mold."

Layla frowned as she took in the sight of her ex-,while Kofi's posture changed from casual to aggressive as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Didn't they bounce you a little while ago, Rhodes?" Kofi demanded. "Or are you looking for Round 2 with me?"

Cody cockily waved him off. "Please, Kingston, I wouldn't waste my time on you." Turning to Layla, his tone became more serious. "We need to talk, Layla."

"We have _nothing_ to talk about, Cody," she snapped, with a hint of bitterness. "Or was there a part of me throwing six pairs of my shoes at your head that you didn't understand the last time we spoke?"

"Just give me one minute, Layla," pleaded Cody. "One minute, and I promise, after that, if you never want to talk to me again, that's cool."

"Beat it, Rhodes," Kofi stepped in front of Layla, defensively. "The lady ain't interested."

With a sigh, Layla realized that the only way to avoid another fistfight was to indulge Cody's request. "Kofi, it's fine," she relented. To Rhodes. "But you better make it fast, then bugger off. I've got a flight."

"Layla, are you sure?" Kofi asked.

Layla shrugged. "Yeah, don't worry. It'll be a minute."

"Well, I'll be close by," he assured her, then looked pointedly to Rhodes. "Just in case."

After Kofi walked about 20 feet away from the former couple, Cody shook his head. "I can't believe you hang out with that guy."

"One, don't insult my friends, and two, out with it. You're wasting my time," Layla coldly replied, her hands on her hips.

Cody put up his hands defensively. "Okay, okay! Jeez, forgot you could be that cold." His eyes roamed appreciatively over her figure. "And yet, you still stay so hot…"

"Eyes up here, idiot," an annoyed Layla pointed to her face. "Now, what do you want?"

Cody sighed. "Look…you've been avoiding me for three months. Ever since…"

"Since what, Cody?" Layla demanded, her dark brown eyes narrowed. "Since I found out that you were sleeping with half the damn Divas locker room while my leg was hurt? Eve, the Bella Twins, Melina, most of the rookie Divas on NXT?"

She remembered well how she found out. Kelly Kelly had heard rumors and followed up with them, and when she had enough to go on, she told Layla the cold truth about her longtime beau's extracurricular activities while the British Diva was rehabbing her ACL. The truth was devastating for Layla; she had loved Cody and remained a faithful girlfriend, supporting his career moves, listening to his problems and she was repaid with lies and betrayal. It would have been enough to have damaged her faith in men altogether…at least, until John Cena came into the picture.**

**(For more on that, check out "World Tour" by RonRon10 and "Keeping Them Apart" by PikaSizJoy, part of the Core Four series!)**

"I made mistakes, okay?" Cody admitted. "And I'm sorry. I'm not perfect, Layla—"

"I never asked you to be perfect, Cody. God knows I'm not," she replied without pity. "But all I asked was for you to love me. To be faithful to me. And _only_ me. But you couldn't do it, could you? That 'dashing' gimmick went straight to your head and you just had to try and shag everything in sight!"

"C'mon, Layla, most of those girls came to me!" he said defensively. "Besides, none of those girls were ever serious, Lay, you know that. You're the only one I ever wanted."

A bitter laugh escaped Layla's perfect lips. "Oh, that's just bloody perfect, init? You couldn't keep it in your pants, but it never meant anything to you? Just like I never meant anything to you. Just like our relationship of _three years_ never meant anything to you!"

"C'mon, Layla," he tried to cajole her. "We were great together. Tell me the sex wasn't as hot for you as it was for me. We have chemistry, baby, you know it and I know it."

"_Do. Not. Call. Me. Baby_," Layla warned him as she jabbed her manicured fingernails into his solid chest. "I _was_ your baby, but not anymore. And yeah, the sex was great, I'll give you that much. But here's the difference. _You_ were having sex—_I_ was making love. I did love you once, Cody, I really did. But you blew it; that part of my life is over. I've moved on, and I suggest you do the same."

"Oh, come on, Layla, who are you fooling?" he replied, cockily. "I'm as good as it gets in the sack, and you know it. You'll never be able to find someone that could fill my spot in your life."

Even as her ex's haughty, arrogant words raised her temper, the image of John Cena came to her mind. Good, honest, humble John, who had completely repaired and restored her faith in men. Who genuinely cared for her. Who was never too busy or too tired to listen to her problems, her doubts, or her hopes. And who, in the bed, had brought her to levels of sheer ecstasy that she had never even known could exist.

Her smirk made the one on his face shrivel. "Really? I'd like to test that theory—oh, wait, I already did."

"You're kidding, right?" When her smirk didn't falter, Cody scowled. "Who is it, then? It's not that Kofi goof, you've got better standards than that. Who is it?"

"The only thing you need to know is that he's more man than you in every way possible," she taunted him, her heart beating a few skips faster as she thought of her and John in the throes of passion. "And in the sack, there's no comparison. The things he does to me, the way he makes me feel, the muscles he has in places where you still don't have places…he makes your best efforts look like his worst five minutes."

Feeling the flames of jealousy roar through him, Cody roughly grabbed her arm. "So, you just spread your legs for one of the losers in the back? I knew you were a lot of things, Layla…I didn't figure that you'd be a slut."

"Get your hands off of me!" she snapped angrily.

"Hey! What's going on there?" Kofi barked as he ran in closer, shoving Cody away hard.

"Mind your own business, Kofi," Rhodes warned him angrily.

"I'm making it my business," Kofi bit out, shielding Layla behind him while eyeing Cody menacingly. "Now, you better get on outta here before I feel like finishing up what we started tonight!"

Shaken, but undaunted, Layla scowled at the second-generation Superstar. "Just leave, Cody. _Now_. I don't know what I ever saw in you, but you better get this through your thick head—it's over between us. We're done."

Cody shook his head, staring bitterly at Layla. "Fine. Your loss, baby. Just remember this moment in a few months after I become the World Champion and rule this damn company. We could have had it all. I could have given you the world."

Layla merely scoffed. "You can't give me what you don't have. And even if you could, my heart isn't for sale, led alone to the likes of you."

"Whatever," Rhodes muttered as he walked away to catch a cab, leaving Kofi and Layla behind.

"You sure you're alright?" Kofi asked, sincerely.

"Yes, I'm fine," she assured him, her eyes not leaving Cody's fleeting figure. "Just fine."

For a moment, Layla wished that John was here, so he could rip that arrogant face right off of Cody's…well, face. But she had other concerns besides her prick-of-an-ex-boyfriend at the moment. Like having a talk with John about what was going on in his head that had him so down.

* * *

**Hyatt Place Hotel-Punk and AJ's Suite**

**Later...much, much later**

* * *

"Your family?" Punk asked.

The faint glow of a nearby desk lamp was the only light in the room, which cast faint shadows on the faces of Punk and AJ, blissfully entwined in each others' embrace as they lay naked under the sheets. Her head was tucked against his chest, her ear nestled in just the right spot to hear the strong, steady beating of his heart, while his right arm was draped around her, slowly, gently tracing up the smooth contours of her shoulders and her back.

Pent up sexual energy had been building between them all night from the incident with Laurinaitis on RAW to the dance and fight with Jericho's goons in the club. She could barely keep her hands off him while he drove, and a few times, Punk nearly swerved into oncoming traffic when he felt her hands roam under his jeans. The elevator ride back to their room was just as torturous, both of them having at it in the elevator with reckless abandon, not even caring who would walk in and see them.

And finally, after fumbling for his keycard as Punk finally opened the door, the fireworks went off. He was tender, but passionate, while she was sweet yet aggressive, their two diverging personalities seamlessly joining in a river of mindblowing, ear-splitting, spring-busting, world-rending passion that seemingly went on and on into eternity…until they lay quiet, spent and pleasantly numb in each other's arms, her fingernails gently tracing the outline of his "Straight Edge" tattoo across his stomach while he pressed his nose to her brunette locks and inhaled that bubble gum-flavored scent that sent tingles down his entire body.

The last thing he would have expected was for her to suggest then, of all times, for him to meet her family later in the week when they did a house show at the Continental Airlines Arena in New Jersey—the same state as her beloved hometown of Union City, where her family resided.

"Well, yeah," AJ shrugged, smiling up at him. "I mean, my mom knows about us already—which means my dad probably knows, too—and so does my brother. He's visiting from the military at the end of the week, and he's a really big fan of yours, it turns out. He's been begging me to bring you over when I visit."

Punk didn't normally get too worked up about meeting the families of the chicks he dated; usually, he made a good impression, though he really didn't care if he didn't, to be honest. He stopped worrying about what other people thought about him a long time ago. But this time, it was different. The thought of meeting AJ's family—specifically her parents—was actually a rather frightening concept to him this time. Despite the brevity of their relationship, the strength of his feelings for her had been growing with each passing day. Hell, he admitted it, to himself, at least—he was beginning to fall in love with AJ. True, he hadn't said it yet, neither did she, but still…the feeling was there. And one of the few things that could ruin their blissful new relationship would be a bad impression on her family.

"I don't know, babe," Punk muttered. "I mean, we're only going to be there for a day, and our travel schedule is pretty strict—"

"Oh, come on, Phil," AJ coaxed gently. "It would mean _sooo_ much to me. I mean, my parents hated Daniel."

"Someone hated Goat Face? What a surprise," he said, his lips curling into his famous smirk.

AJ laughed at Punk's unexpected reference to her ex-. "'Goat Face?'"

"Well, yeah," he explained. "I mean, you have to admit, that is the ugliest freakin' beard in all of wrestling right now. He looks like a cross between Hillbilly Jim and a mountain goat. Or whatever would result if said Hillbilly Jim and said mountain goat had a little whiskey around and some Marvin Gaye music and decided to get freaky."

A snort of laughter escaped AJ. "Well, now that you mention it, that beard was kinda gross after a while. It was like making out with carpet."

"Not like my beard, right?" Punk waggled his eyebrows.

Smiling, she reached up and traced the hair on his chin. "No, of course not. I like your beard. It's trim, kinda scratchy. I like the way it feels on me."

He chuckled as he held her closer. "Are you sure you're not just buttering me up to get me to say yes to this whole 'Meet the Parents' thing?"

"Would I do that?" she asked innocently, batting her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"Oh, you're a tricky one," he laughed, tilting his head down and finding her lips, AJ eagerly returning the kiss with one of her own.

After their lips parted, Punk sighed. "Yeah, okay. I guess it wouldn't be a big deal if I got to know your folks for a little while."

"Yes!" she exclaimed in excitement, cuddling closer to him. "Okay, first, sorry, baby, but you're gonna have to wear something a little more dressy."

Punk groaned, already hating this idea. "AJ, I don't—"

"—do dress shirts, blah, blah, blah, get over it," she waved him off. "Look, I don't expect you to come in a tuxedo or whatever. Just something a little more…sporty. Clean cut."

"So, what you're saying is I should leave my ripped-up jeans and my AC/DC shirt in the suitcase?" he quipped.

Her annoyed glare was her response. "Punk, I'm serious! I just want them to like you, and see the awesomeness that I see in you on a daily basis. Mom and my brother should be the easiest to win over. The real challenge is gonna be my dad."

Punk figured as much. "Okay, so tell me about Pops. What's he like, and does he have a shotgun?"

"Well, actually, he does carry a firearm, because he works security for a bank," AJ casually replied, which drew widened eyes from Punk. She smiled at him. "Yeah, that's right, so you better behave, buddy! Also, he's Puerto Rican and kinda strict. He's only liked one of my boyfriends, so I'm drawing on that to walk you through. He loves anything that has to do with football, especially the New York Giants, and he's a huge Yankees fan. Do _not_ bring up basketball with him, though—he's furious that the Nets left for Brooklyn. Avoid politics with him, he gets all moody and anti-Republican. Oh, and he does play a nice classic rock guitar, so you could talk about rock music with him, but try not to go past the 80s, or you'll lose him completely."

Punk sank further back into his pillowcase with each passing rule, his stress levels beginning to rise at the thought of accidentally stepping into a pitfall that would make his girlfriend's dad throw him out on his ass. Still, one question did come to mind. "Did he hate Daniel? No, wait, of course he did, who doesn't? I guess I meant to say—how badly did he hate Daniel?"

AJ groaned as she recalled that disastrous meeting months ago. "Don't remind me. Daniel wouldn't eat any of my mom's cooking—huge strike against him—he was a hardcore Republican, so most of the time he and my dad were at each other's throats, and he accidentally spilled coffee all over my dad's autographed Derek Jeter jersey, which was his prized possession. Daddy told me afterwards that if I ever brought Daniel back to the house again, he'd be leaving in a body bag."

Punk laughed; that was so typical Bryan. "What a doofus. But then, that could only happen to Bryan. I haven't even told you half of the road stories that I've got on him from when Colt, Danny Boy and I were on the road in ROH. And, boy oh boy, are they good ones. I've got enough on Danny Boy to blackmail him for the rest of his life."

"What? Tell me!" she pleaded, excitedly.

Smiling, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Another time, babe. I'm thinking maybe we should get some sleep."

Shrugging, she curled up against him. "I guess you're right." A beat. "And well, I was thinking that maybe afterwards, the next time we're in Chicago, I can meet your family?"

Punk frowned at the thought. "Uh…my family?"

"Well, yeah," she said, shyly. "I mean, unless you don't think they'd like me—"

"AJ, honey, it'd be impossible not to like you," Punk assured her, still deep in thought. "It's just a little dicey with them. My sister and my mom would be cool with you…I'm just not sure about meeting with my old man."

AJ nodded, remembering the stories he told her about his rough childhood, growing up with an alcoholic father that was so into booze that he would down it in the shower, that he would come home and slap Punk, his mother and his sister around. She could tell by the troubled look on his face that it was something that still bothered him, even as a grown and successful man.

"Do you ever talk to him?" she asked quietly.

Punk's audible sigh was his response, horrid memories of the beer smell permeating from his father whenever he came home as he slapped him around for no good reason at all flashing before his eyes.

"Not if I don't have to," he replied, his calm voice controlled, but still ripe with emotion. "I mean, he cleaned up now and I hear he's doing good, but even the last time when I saw he was getting his act together…I looked at him and I remembered being that scared 9-year-old kid that curled up into a ball whenever he went on one of his drinking binges while he slapped my mom around in front of me. Me and Shaylene would usually hide in the closet until the worst of it passed or he just passed out on the couch like he always did."

AJ bit her lip, her eyes filled with sympathy as she saw the distant look in her boyfriend's eyes. "Oh, baby," she shook her head as she rubbed circles on his lean chest. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

He gently took her hand and pressed it to his mouth. "It's fine. I mean, it's over now; no use dwelling on the past anymore, I suppose." Forcing a smile on his face, he looked down at AJ. "But I definitely think mom and Shaylene would hit it off with you. And you've got to meet Colt. Funniest damn guy you'll ever meet."

AJ chuckled. "I know of him; I mean, I watch his internet show thing. It's pretty hilarious."

Punk laughed. "Yeah, that's the Colt-ster. He's a barrel of laughs."

"So, is that a yes on meeting the Brooks family?" she smiled at him expectantly.

Rolling his eyes, Punk nodded. "Yeah, sure. I think we should be up there in a few weeks. I'll make some plans."

Pleased, she reached up and kissed him gently on the mouth. "You are just the sweetest thing."

"Yes, I am," he smirked, which drew her laugh.

"And modest, too," she giggled as she shook her head.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, babe," he grinned as he pressed her closer to him while they drifted off to sleep…with Punk's final thought before he entered dreamland being the dismayed thought that now he had to and find an actual shirt to wear. _Christ, the things I'll do for this girl…_

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**Next: The fallout from Punk's Pipebomb on People Power begins. What lengths will Laurinaitis go to in order to take the WWE Championship from CM Punk? And what dangers await AJ and Punk from their growing list of enemies? Tune in to find out on the next chapter - taking place on Friday Night Smackdown!**

* * *

Well, that's a wrap! Sorry for the delay, guys, but I've been caught up with real life stuff. Will try to get the next chapter up faster, promise! For more on the Core Four series, read "Keeping Them Apart" by PikaSixJoy and "World Tour" by RonRon10. More action-LOTS more-coming in the next chapter!

Remember to leave a review, and like me on Facebook, follow me on twitter, recommend this story to a friend, and take care…spike your hair. WOO WOO WOO…You Know It!

#IHeartCrazyChicks

#PunkAJ4Ever,

Jean-theGuardian


	9. Part 9A Tale of Three SmackdownsPunk

A/N: Mark the date - July 2, 2012 - when shipper dreams came true. AJ kissed Punk! (Yeah, she shoved him and D-Bry through a table afterwards, but damn it, I'LL TAKE IT! lol)

Only to be followed by - July 3, 2012-The Kiss, Part 2! The day where because of one earthshaking, mindblowing, led-melting kiss, my shipper soul died and WENT TO FREAKIN' HEAVEN! Best Couple in the WOORRLD! lol

Have to say that I'm proud of AJ having developed such a long way in a year. This was definitely RAW is AJ on Monday, from beginning to shocking end! But seeing as nobody outside of Triple H/Stephanie ever have a happy ending romantically in WWE (unless you count the unfinished Jeff Hardy/Trish Stratus angles in the past, which I loved) this is why fanfic exists. My advice to Punk/AJ shippers-just enjoy the ride from here. Happy endings are why fanfiction exists! (unless it's those dark stories, but whatever.)

By the way, PeoplePower1, watch it—I've got my eye on you, and I've heard a few things about you. Feel free to review, but no trolling, or I'll block you, young man.

Special thanks to all that reviewed, and I'll name you all later, promise! And to anyone out there that has a problem with my new favorite couple, to paraphrase Korra from Avatar: Legend of Korra—_I_ Ship AJ/Punk! You've gotta _DEAL_ with it! lol

Now on with the show!

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 9**

**A Tale of Three Smackdowns - Part 1- Punk**

* * *

**Hyatt Place Hotel, Fort Worth, TX - Punk and AJ's Suite**

**Morning**

* * *

The hissing sound of the shower was the first thing that came to Punk's attention as his morning senses slowly began to register in his mind.

Slowly, he began to open his eyes to the light peeking in through the blinds of their hotel room.

The next thing that came to his attention was the loud percussion sounds and lyrics being sung from the shower being occupied by his adorably hyperactive significant other.

_Tarzan and Jane were swingin' on a vine  
Candyman, candyman  
Sippin' from a bottle of vodka double wine  
Sweet sugar candyman_

Though somewhat sleepy still, Punk couldn't help but chuckle a little as he sat up. _What's that nutty little minx up to now?_

Deciding that he would only really find out one way, he slowly rose to his feet, wearing only his boxers, and made his way to the open bathroom door.

As he peaked in, through the stained glass doors, he could see the petite and slender figure of AJ dancing to the tune of Christina Aguilera's "Candyman" in the shower, moving with that dorky spunk and sexy sass that made Punk's eyes ignore everything else but her.

"_I met him out for dinner on a Friday night  
He really got me working up an appetite  
He had tattoos up and down his arm  
There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm"_

A smile crept up his face, shaking his head as he listened to her sing off-key and free-spirited, her inhibitions completely gone and baring her true self—a sex goddess, of the geek variety.

"_He's a one stop shop, makes my panties drop  
He's a sweet talkin' sugar coated candyman  
A sweet talkin' sugar coated candyman, ooh, yeah"_

"Singing that song about anyone in particular?" he called out with a smirk.

His voice startled her, making her briefly cry out in shock before she whirled around to find him standing there.

"Geez, Punk, make a little noise next time," she frowned, though it was brief as she could not help but find that damn smirk of his so freakin' sexy it was melting her.

"What, and miss out on that little show?" he grinned, cheekily.

A sly smile found her way on her face. "Well, uh, if you like what you see…maybe you'd like to take a closer look."

That was all Punk needed to hear. Not two seconds later, his boxers were easily discarded as he stepped inside that shower, his hands gliding easily over her wet skin as he became drenched in the warm water while her lips met his eagerly.

"Are we ever going to take showers like normal people?" he questioned between kisses.

"Normal sucks," she smiled against his mouth. "Crazy is _sooo_ much better."

He chuckled as his hands slid down her waist and cupped her wet behind. "Definitely a fan of crazy right now."

"Yeah?" she smiled as she trailed her fingers through his wet hair.

"Oh, yeah," he smirked as they kissed and slid back, clinging to each other, against the wall as the music continued to play in the background, the shower suddenly becoming hot for more reasons than just the heat of the water.

"_Well, by now I'm getting all bothered and hot  
When he kissed my mouth it really hit the spot  
He had lips like sugarcane  
Good things come for boys who wait _

_He's a one stop shop, makes my cherry pop  
He's a sweet talkin' sugar coated candyman  
A sweet talkin' sugar coated candyman, ohh yeah"_

* * *

**3 Days Later**

**Smackdown - American Bank Center**

**Corpus Christi, Texas**

(A/N: Feel free to sing "Do You Know Your Enemy? Do You Know Your Enemy?" ;) )

* * *

The pyro exploding on the rampway of the American Bank Center drew the roar of anticipation from the crowd as Smackdown officially kicked off.

Josh Mathews: "We're coming just days off an explosive RAW, with what are sure to be earthshaking reprecussions for the WWE Championship. Welcome, everyone, to Friday Night Smackdown! I am your host Josh Mathews, alongside the incomparible Booker T and my fellow colleague Michael Cole."

Michael Cole: And now that Josh has taken up all that time, let's get the camera on me, your real host, Michael Cole, who would like to welcome everyone to —

Booker T: Cole, shut up, we already did all that. Let's get to talking about what happened on RAW this past Monday. Cuz it was off the chain and straight up insane, dawg!

Josh: Indeed, Booker has a point. CM Punk, the WWE Champion, once again causing an aftershock with his microphone, AND his boot, when he came into an altercation with RAW and Smackdown General Manager John Laurinaitis.

Cole (huffily): Why don't you call it what it was, Josh? CM Punk _**assaulted**_ Mr. Laurinaitis, all because he couldn't swallow his pride and do the right thing for the business and his own career when he turned down Mr. Laurinaitis's offer! Punk should have been arrested for what he did! He's a thug! He's a menace! And he's a disgrace as WWE Champion!

Booker T (Shaking his head in disgust): Man, shut up, Cole! That's so typical of you, only with half of the story, man. How about adding in the fact that John Laurinaitis threatened Punk's girlfriend, AJ before that? And, hey, was I the last to know that those two were an item?

Josh: I know it was news to me, Booker. But regardless of that, the WWE Universe has been buzzing in anticipation of what is going to happen next. What will CM Punk have to say about last Monday night? And how will John Laurinaitis retaliate? All of these questions and more to be answered as we kick off Smackdown!

* * *

The sound of broadcast static and the opening guitar riff of "Cult of Personality" drew the fans out of there seats as CM Punk stepped through the the curtain, his WWE title worn proudly around his waist and dressed in his ring gear and his new T-shirt, reading "I Dig Crazy Chicks." AJ was right by his side, decked out in a black T-shirt with a pink skull-and-bones design with a jean jacket thrown over it, with matching belt, black shorts and Converse sneakers, her Divas Title nestled on her shoulder.

Symbolically, the two were holding hands, taking in the welcome reception of the audience in attendance, chanting both of their names and cheering loudly.

Despite having done this dozens of times before, AJ was nervous as hell. The last two days, she had been a nervous wreck thinking about what would happen on Smackdown after last Monday.

But as she looked to Punk, who offered her a reassuring grin as he confidently strode to the ring, taking her soft hand in his firm, yet soothing grip, she felt many of the butterflies flapping wildly in her stomach die down, drawing on his self-assured aura and gaining strength from it. She felt safe out here with Punk, protected and loved. And at that moment, she knew that whatever would happen, they would get through it together. Giving him a genuine smile, she couldn't help but to laugh a little at the wink he gave her as they stepped into the ring.

Though truth be told, Punk had the exact same reservations. All of his life, and his career, he'd never had to worry much about anything but himself. Now, the best thing to have happened to him in a long time—his precious Geek Goddess—was walking with him into the line of fire. So many questions had been firing in his head in the last few days? How would he be able to protect her? Could he do it and still keep his head in the game? And what the hell was Laurinaitis up to? The time for questions was over, though; it was time to get down to business and do what he did best—kick ass and take names.

As the music died down and the crowd cheered loudly, Punk and AJ were handed microphones, and the Voice of the Voiceless went right to work. "I knew there was a reason why I loved Corpus Christi!"

The fans ate it up, chanting his name in approval.

AJ shook her head and smiled, delighting in watching him work in his element. Few people could ever capture and captivate a crowd like Punk could, she knew that. When he spoke, people listened.

"Now, I know that there are a lot of people wondering a few questions. It's the same questions that have been blowing up on my Twitter account, the same thing I've been asked wherever I've eaten in the last few days, the same thing I keep reading in the comment sections on WWE . com," he began. " First, it's this one—'Punk, you and AJ are dating?'" Off the crowd's applause, he smiled at her. "The answer to that is, to steal a quote from a former friend of mine is…_Yes! Yes! Yes_!"

AJ held her hand up to her mouth as she laughed, while the crowd echoed Punk's use of Daniel Bryan's catchphrase with their "YES! YES!YES!" chants.

"And I was enjoying the privacy that we had while we've been together, make no mistake about it…I am not, by any means, ashamed of being with AJ. In fact, it's actually kind of a relief now that it's out there. I mean, do any of you guys understand how hard it is knowing that you're dating the hottest chick on the WWE roster and not being able to tell anyone about it?" Seeing her blush, Punk grinned as he pulled her closer to him by the waist. "But now that it's out there, I'll be the first to admit, I'm crazy about this girl and I don't care who knows about it!"

With that, he dipped a surprised AJ in his arms and caught her lips in a searing kiss, which it took only moments for AJ to eagerly return, to the surprise and delight of the crowd.

Lifting AJ back to her feet as their lips parted—her cheeks blushing a becoming pinkish tint—Punk briefly smiled at her before he became serious. "And now, as far as John Laurinaitis goes, and Clown Shoes, wherever you are, I want you to listen to what I'm about to tell you very carefully, because I'm only going to say this once."

The edge in the Straight Edge Superstar's voice was almost lethal. "If you ever try to come at me through my girlfriend again, there will be no position of power, no safe hiding place, no amount of fines or suspensions in the world that will be able to stop me from finding you and twisting and turning you inside out. And believe me, Funk Man, that's not a threat, that's a—"

"_Ex-cuuse_ me!" came a familiar, grating female voice.

AJ shook her head in annoyance, and spied Punk rolling his eyes in irritation at the unwelcome voice the heralded the presence of one of WWE's most annoying Divas slowly making her way to the stage…Vickie Guerrero.

"Ex-cuuuse me!" repeated the heavy-set manager as she appeared in a ridiculously low-cut dress, to the sound of venomous booing and hissing from the crowd. For a moment, AJ wondered if Vickie actually knew how irritating and abrasive she came off, or if it was one of those things that skipped her mind.

"Punk, AJ, nobody cares about your reprehensible actions towards Mr. Laurinaitis," she sneered in a slow, yet haughty tone. "This is not RAW, this is Smackdown. And everyone know…I said _**EXCUSE ME**_!" she shrieked suddenly at the audience, who only booed louder.

Punk was so not in the mood for this. He was expecting to have Laurinaitis and his flunkies to deal with, not some middle-aged woman walking around wearing outfits made for women that were 20 years younger and several sizes smaller.

"Everyone knows that Smackdown belongs to the man I am about to introduce, the man that will be the next World Heavyweight Champion…the Showoff, Dolph Ziggler!"

"I'm Here to Show the World" began blaring throughout the arena and out came Dolph Ziggler with his ring gear and a pink and neon-blue-lettered cutoff tee, smirking cockily and brandishing a microphone.

Punk and AJ exchanged twin annoyed headshakes. The Second City Savior knew that Dolph was good in the ring—even great, at times—but his main bragging point, being a showoff, was exactly the reason why the kid had only briefly tasted World Title gold, but had never actually won the Big One when it counted.

Punk, meanwhile, had five world titles to his resume in the WWE. But more than that, this is what separated the two men; Punk learned long ago on his journey to the top of the sports entertainment world that there was a time for showing off, and a time to buckle down and get serious. And until Dolph learned that lesson, in Punk's eyes, he would never have what it took to climb to the top of the mountain.

"You know, Punk," Dolph began as he and Vickie began making their way down the ramp and towards the ring, "you've really gotten a swell head ever since you became WWE Champion, thinking that you can just walk around on whatever show you want and say and do whatever you feel like. But newsflash, Punk, nobody cares! These people didn't pay to see you, they came to see me, Dolph Ziggler, and you know it."

The audience booed loudly to that theory. Punk smirked, replying, "Oh, yeah, I can tell how much they love you, Ziggles, the way they boo the crap out of you."

Ziggler frowned. "Cute," he spat as he entered the ring. "But as I was saying, they aren't here to see some pierced-tattoed-slick-haired-snarky-smart-alex-with-a-spinner-title and his 95-pound-whacked-out-hare-brained-disgruntled-Hot-Topic-employee-of-a-girlfriend brag about assaulting their boss," he said in rapid fire succession.

"They came to see the Showoff throw his name into the mix for the World Heavyweight Championship so I can beat that pasty-faced-Beaker-haired-Groundskeeper-Willie-sounding-goof Sheamus for it, as I am officially challenging him tonight."

Off his smug look, Punk and AJ slowly turned to each other…and began laughing hysterically, Punk slapping his knee and AJ clutching her sides.

Vickie frowned in annoyance. Offput, Dolph demanded, "What's so funny?"

"You are, you bleached-blond mimbo!" Punk replied as he composed himself. "You think you're going to beat Sheamus? Buddy, I've been in the ring with the Big Guy, and let me tell you, it's going to take more than just talking like the guy who sold Micro Machines to beat him for the Big Gold Belt."

Turning his attention to Vickie. "Honestly, Vickie, this is getting to be sad. Watching you do the same thing with Dolph every week, touting him as the next champ of whichever show he happens to be on…only for Dolph to come up short time after time after time. You said you were going to beat Edge for the World Title last year, Dolph, -and that didn't work out. Then in January, you told me that you were going to beat _me_ for _my_ title, and that didn't work out, either. It's like watching Wile E. Coyote running after the Road Runner; oh sure, you might look like you've got it in the bag, but when the moment comes when you might finally get the title…_splat_! There you are, running off the cliff, Dolph. Over and over and over again."

The crowd cheered Punk and laughed loudly at the red-faced Ziggler and Vickie.

"I actually tuned out most of what he said, but I assume I was supposed to be offended," AJ shrugged with a smile, which became rather sarcastic in a heartbeat. "But you might want to think about not inhaling your own hair bleach, Dolph, because clearly you're high on something or completely delusional if you think that you're going to beat Sheamus to be World Champ. Well, you…" she smirked at Vickie. "…_and_ your grandma."

Punk barely had time to laugh at AJ's unexpectedly wicked volley at Vickie when the older woman's hand lashed out and struck her across her delicate cheek, jarring her head backwards.

Immediately, Vickie was in AJ's physical space, screeching, "Don't you _**ever**_ talk to me like that again, little girl! I am the manager of the next world champion, and you will show me some respect, or I will teach you a lesson you'll never for…"

What stopped Vickie and sent a jolt of fear running down her spine wasn't the angry glare that Punk gave her for daring to lay her hands on his girlfriend. No, that was due to the rather frightening glance and a twisted smile that surfaced on AJ's pretty face. A look that could only be described as…well, crazed.

Suddenly, as quickly as it surfaced, it had vanished. Composing herself for a moment, breathing in deeply, AJ turned a sweet smile towards Punk. "Uh, baby? You know that phase in our relationship where we show each other the new, different sides of our personalities?"

"Uh, yeah?" Punk replied, a little confused.

"Okay," she smiled. "Well, this is me being very…very…angry."

Without warning, she dropped her title, turned and sprung towards Vickie, tackling the older woman to the ground and angrily slamming her head into the mat, the self-titled "Cougar" shrieking in terror as she tried in vain to get the furious, petite Diva off of her.

Stunned—and yet amused at the same time—Punk was about to pull his girlfriend off of Vickie when Dolph tried to sucker punch him. Catching his fist quickly, Punk fired back at Dolph with a series of hard right hands of his own before he caught Ziggler in the head with one of his patented roundhouse kicks, knocking him into a turnbuckle where Punk continued to beat on him.

However, in the time that he was too distracted with Ziggler, he failed to see a jean-clad Chris Jericho sneak in through the crowd and blindside him with a shot to the head, knocking him to the ground. Stunned, Punk could barely get his guard up as Jericho and a revitalized Ziggler began stomping on the dazed WWE Champion.

"You thought we were done, Punk?" Jericho taunted between blows. "We're not done until I say we're done, got it? Huh? You got—"

Suddenly, loud Irish lyrics that echoed through the PA system brought the crowd to a loud and hopeful cheer…

"_It's a shameful thing, you've lost your head!_

_A careless man who'd wind up dead!_

_You wear you sin like it's some kind of prize,_

_Too many lies, too many lies!…"_

Like a bolt out of the blue, Sheamus, the Great White, came racing down to the ring, clobbering Ziggler and nailing Jericho with a few hard rights that got him off Punk. As Jericho recovered and attempted to retaliate against a distracted Sheamus, now fighting off Ziggler, Punk sprung to his feet and caught him with a spear tackle that knocked the Canadian to the ground, hammering away at the blonde's head with his taped fists.

As Jericho managed to squirm away and out of the ring from Punk's wrath and Vickie managed to roll out of the ring and away from an incensed AJ, Ziggler was unceremoniously thrown over the top rope courtesy of a clubbing clothesline from the reigning World Heavyweight Champion.

"Beat it, ya two blonde horses' arses!" Irish-born man bellowed angrily, his body ready for a fight as Punk flanked him in an equally defensive stance, shielding AJ behind him despite her aggressive body language as she eyed Vickie like a tiger would to a gazelle.

Huffing in pants of air, Punk managed to greet his friend while keeping an eye on his blonde assailants. "Hey, Sheamo."

"Punkers," he acknowledged him. "Ya know, lad, ye have a little bit of a knack fer attracting the wrong kinds of attention lately."

Punk shrugged, offhandedly. "You know me, Big Guy. Always trying to keep things interesting. Though, technically, I'd like to point out that it was actually AJ's fault, this time."

Off her mildly offended glare, he quickly added. "Uh, not that Vickie didn't have that coming, honey!"

As she shook her head at her boyfriend and rolled her eyes, Sheamus chuckled. "Smooth, Punk."

At that point, as Punk expected, Laurinaitis's irritatingly imperious People Power theme began playing and out rolled the WWE executive in his white scooter, flanked by Eve and Otunga.

"Punk," Laurinaitis began tersely. "Here you are again, causing another disturbance on our programming. But these kind of shenan, uh, shenanigans aren't going to be tolerated. Now, David Otunga informed me that due to your actions Monday, I was well within my rights to file a criminal complaint against you, Punk, but I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to fire AJ, either. No, because I think you need to be taught a lesson in hu, humility and respect, both for me and for People Power."

Picking up a mike, Punk sneered as he retorted, "Respect? Respect for what, Johnny? For a guy who can't even say a simple sentence without stuttering over himself like a brain-damaged chimp? For wrestling's version of Bill Lumbergh? For a guy who drives around in that ridiculous scooter, looking like he should be on his way to a nearby senior center? Respect is earned, pal, not given, and there is absolutely nothing respectable about you."

Off the crowd's approving cheers, Laurinaitis seethed, yet continued in his raspy voice. "You're going to regret that, Punk. Because by the end of the night, I will personally name the opponent that you will face at No Way Out to defend your WWE Championship against. As for tonight, since you seem to want a fight with Dolph and Jericho so badly, then that's what you're going to get. Because tonight, in the spirit of People Power, it will be the team of Chris Jericho, Vickie Guerrero and Dolph Ziggler against the team of CM Punk, AJ and Sheamus in a six-person tag match!"

The crowd seemed to like the match, and off a smirk from Sheamus and a smile and nod of approval from AJ, Punk threw Laurinaitis a sarcastic grin. "That's the first idea of yours you've gotten right, Scooter Boy. Because in the mood I'm in now? I'm just dying to make somebody Go To Sleep!"

At that, Punk's theme music played as the audience cheered while he, AJ and Sheamus stared down their opponents for tonight as they slunk back to the locker room. Yet while he felt in control, Punk just couldn't shake the feeling that they were somehow walking into a trap.

* * *

TBC

* * *

Jean-theGuardian: Well, that's a wrap, folks! Check out Part 2, from AJ's POV, on Sunday, July 8—

(John Cena walks by, headphones on)

Jean-theGuardian: Oh, Cena! Cena, my man! Tell everybody that the next update of Hard to Handle comes on July 8.

(music blaring and halfway listening, Cena shrugs, proceeds to begin Mass Text Nightmare…)

CM Punk (stunned, staring at cell phone): _What do you mean, AJ's late_ ? ?

Sheamus (befuddled, with Kofi in weight room, on phone): You want to hit me with a rake?

Layla (shocked, looking at text): Someone stole my license plate?

Kaitlyn (surprised, on phone): Punk asked me on a date?

AJ (handing out water to random guy): They said we're supposed to hydrate. (Checks phone again…)

Eve (angrily checking e-mail): I do NOT need to lose weight!

Kane (confused, on phone): Why do I have to bake a cake?

John Laurinaitis (looking at Twitter account): Can I just buy a cake?

Randy Orton: (annoyed, on phone): I am so not baking a cake!

Big Show (checking e-mail, getting hungry): Ooooh, caaake! (drools)

AJ (angrily, running over and slapping a confused Punk's arm): _**You asked Kaitlyn on a DATE?**_

Daniel Bryan (shocked anger, on phone): No, I don't like to masturbate!

Damien Sandow (resigned, on phone): Well, I do enjoy when I pontificate.

Chris Jericho: (bewildered, reading Blackberry): What does it matter what I last ate?

Alberto Del Rio: (grabbing Ricardo's shirt, angrily shows him text): Who were you calling a cheapskate?

Daniel Bryan (suddenly looking scared, on phone): What do you mean I'm wanted in 10 states?

Punk (reading a new text with an equally shocked AJ): Bryan's wanted in 10 states?

Kofi: (turning to Sheamus): I think D-Bry mugged eight.

Triple H: (running with sledgehammer in one hand, phone in the other): Tell security not to let Bryan out of the gate!

RonRon10: (knocking on Jean-theGuardian's door): Yo, man, I got your message—I got someone for you to date.

(Door opens, reveals Trish Stratus, giving sultry smile, wink): Hey, there.

(Jean-theGuardian, smiles like a boss at readers.)

**Remember to check back for the next chapter of Hard to Handle, Sunday, July 8, only on FF dot net!**

* * *

Epilogue…

Daniel Bryan: (hiding in dumpster in the back, nervously peers out for anyone looking for him, ducks back in after angry mob of wrestlers charges by): No, No, No…


	10. Part 10 A Tale of Three Smackdowns AJ

A/N: Orale, FF dot Net! Mi raza, what's poppin, homes! (a little tribute to Eddie Guerrero, there) I want to apologize in advance for the rather long author's note.

The following chapter is (sarcastically) dedicated to Youtube user CMAWx, with two simple words: U mad? LOL

Special shoutouts to everyone who reviewed, including: wreztlingKO, Thewoman that loves the WWE, CRuck, Miserlou, IHeartTeryse, sazbelle, Deadliest Priestess, PikaSixJoy and RonRon10 (The Core Four…Born Better (lol), Crazyanime man, xLightweight, Risinggirl108, mikabronxgirl, Raven Black the Marauderette, BlueWolf1923, KenzieMac, weaselette01, WhiteAsukalover, Unbeleivably Random, Lok2685, AmandaEchelon and DemonicXaliv. Way to represent, guys!

FYI, for anyone looking for a good read (or a Trish/Jeff Hardy story) be sure to read "Stay With Me", a story I co-wrote with my buddy, the talented WhiteAsukaLover, on Facebook earlier this week. Check his page out, and I promise it will be worth your while.

Anyone else counting the hours and minutes until Monday night to see what more AJ/Punk goodness is in store? I just hope it's more kissing, though if it's anything as epic as Smackdown was, I'll be O'Ding on Fanboy glee! lol

Now, to anyone out there with videomaking skills, I have a sort-of mini-contest thing I want to put out there. On my Facebook page (Jean-theGuardian, friend me!) a few friends and I have been listing songs that remind us of Punk/AJ. I would love to make a video, but alas, my computer sucks. So, I want to issue a small challenge: If you can make a one-minute Youtube video of AJ/CM Punk for this fic using either the song "**Hard to Handle" by the Black Crowes** or **"First Time" by Lifehouse** and send me a link to it via PM or Facebook by Saturday, July 14, I will **grant you (yes, YOU!)** either **a cameo in the next chapter or the next chapter will feature a Superstar/Diva of your choice**. C'mon, spread the Punk/AJ love; the power to change this fic is in your hands, people! ;)

Enough of that, now. Because the next chapter of Hard to Handle begins right…now!

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 10 - A Tale of Three Smackdowns - AJ**

* * *

**Smackdown - Backstage**

**Moments later**

* * *

Watching from the monitor in the back in the dressing room, Daniel Bryan's devious blue eyes watched keenly at the events transpiring in front of the monitor, analyzing each word, each event with the utmost interest. Preparation, after all, was key, a lesson he had learned long ago coming up through the indy circuit.

A growl escaped his throat at the sight of his "old buddy" Punk and AJ—_his_ AJ, damn it!—kissing so lovingly in the middle of the ring. The sight did not escape the nearby eyes of Alicia Fox and Rosa Mendes, sitting alongside Zack Ryder, Trent Barretta and R-Truth, all of whom snickered at Daniel after 'awwwing' at the sickening display of affection the couple in the ring shared. Annoyed, he rolled his eyes at them and tried not to pay them any more attention.

There was only so much of this that Daniel could take. In the last 4 days since that infamous RAW led to the discovery of the romantic link between his ex-girlfriend and his ex-friend, the WWE Universe's online world had been on fire with comments from interested and excited fans regarding AJ and Punk's relationship. On Twitter, on Facebook, on the WWE website…even on his own Twitter and Facebook accounts, to his everlasting chagrin, mostly from fans poking fun at him for losing AJ to Punk...

"LOL D-Bry 4 getting pwned by Punk! Hi Elle!" wrote sweetbellesammy.

"Aww, nobody loves Midget Vegan Boy. Punk & AJ 4-ever!" posted VixxyVampire.

"Punk and AJ? STILL better than Twilight! Lol I heart these two! Hey, D-Bry, U Mad? Trololol!" commented mikabronxgirl.

"OMG! Punk & AJ? WTF Daniel Bryan's love life is dead, LOL!" tweeted StarzGirl09.

(There was some random guy posting on his Facebook something about People Power and AJ/John Laurinaitis, but Daniel deleted that crap immediately; some people just made no sense.)

Every single one of those comments was like a needle jabbing into the so-called American Dragon's skin. Only a few months ago, he was the envy and talk of the WWE (in his mind) with the World Title on his shoulder and one of the prettiest Divas to come around in years hanging on his arm. Now, once again, AJ had made him a laughingstock. And she didn't even have to try very hard. His blood boiled at the crack made by AJ about his height (or lack of it) on WWE Backstage Fallout; at least 200 postings calling him a midget followed after that in the last few days.

It was killing him to realize that his attempt to make himself and AJ into a "power couple" months ago when he was still world champ were now being lived out by her and Punk. They were the talk of the wrestling world, the toast of the Internet Wrestling Community, while he was stuck on the outside looking in, without the girl and without the gold.

But not for long, he swore to himself.

He just needed to play things right tonight, and he would be back in the WWE Championship picture. He had no doubt—well, none that he would consciously acknowledge—that he could beat Punk or outshine Jericho. Daniel had hit his stride as a competitor in the last year, and he knew it. But to get that title off Punk, and regain his honor and everything that once belonged to him—specifically AJ—he was going to have to chip away at the defenses surrounding her and Punk.

In particular, that big pasty-faced Irish oaf that Punk hung out with, Daniel noted, as Sheamus had stood tall alongside the tattooed Superstar and the petite Geek Goddess in the ring after driving off Jericho and Ziggler.

But how? Daniel knew very well that he couldn't match up with Sheamus. After losing both the United States and the World Heavyweight championships to the Great White over the last year, Daniel had abandoned all hope that he could ever match up with the bigger, stronger Sheamus. What he needed, he realized, was someone who could. Someone with as much incentive to hate Sheamus as Daniel himself did…

As if by a serendipitous and fortuitous twist of fate, Alberto Del Rio and Ricardo came walking down the outside hall, a surly look on the face of the Mexican Aristocrat.

Sensing his opportunity, Daniel Bryan began to make his way out to Del Rio. Granted, Daniel couldn't stand that cocky, stuck-up fat cat, but as the old saying went, war made for strange bedfellows.

"Alberto! Hey, wait up a sec!"

Annoyed, Del Rio turned his disdainful sneer towards Bryan. "Ugh, what do you want, _enano asqueroso_ (dirty midget)?"

Daniel had no idea what that meant, but he was pretty sure it didn't mean "Hey, buddy" or anything. "Uh, yeah…so, listen, how's the concussion? You medically cleared yet?"

"What business is that of yours, _perro_?"

"Just answer the question," snapped an impatient Bryan. "Are you cleared or not?"

Snorting in irritation, yet smart enough to realize that there was something behind Daniel's inquiry, Del Rio nodded. "I should be cleared by this Monday. Stronger than ever."

Daniel smiled, knowing that this was perfect timing. "Let me offer you a proposition. How would you like to make an impact and become the next number one contender for the World Heavyweight Championship?"

Del Rio looked on, intruiged. "Okay, _gringo_. You have my attention. What is it that you propose?"

"Just a little way to take care of Punk's big pale friend tonight," Daniel smirked.

Alberto balked at that. "Are you crazy, _naco_? I'm not medically cleared yet! I'm not going to confront Sheamus one-on-one!"

"Trust me, you won't have to," Daniel assured him. "All I need you to do is be at the right place at the right time tonight. I'll take care of the rest."

Del Rio was still reluctant. "And what makes you so sure that this will work?"

The smile on Daniel's face was sinister. "Trust me. I know Sheamus. It'll work."

Even as Daniel explained his plan to Del Rio, the Vegan Superstar knew that was only a means to one of his real ends. The other one…AJ…was something that he was going to have to take care of with a more…personal touch.

As for Punk, well…a malicious idea came to him the other day while watching some old DVDs from the 2003 era of WWE. A way to put his old ex-pal through the paces and soften him up, so that when Daniel Bryan struck…all there would be left of Punk to pick off would be the WWE Title, and the bones.

* * *

"He's up to something," Punk said of Laurinaitis, his eyebrows knitted together in thought.

Back in Punk's dressing room, AJ watched as Punk paced the locker room, while Sheamus, Kofi and Kaitlyn sat around, equally concerned. Layla was conspicuously absent, having to sneak away unbeknownst to her friends to see what was happening to John Cena. The man had been rather distant in the last few days, and Layla was trying to figure out what had happened recently that had John so distracted.

"I'm not doubting that, boy-o, but it ain't gonna do us any good to sit around and fret about it," Sheamus offered, stretching his arm. "Let's just get ready and go all out tonight."

"It's not that simple, Sheamo," Punk countered, stroking his trim beard. "I know old Snicklefritz like the back of my hand. He's planning something for tonight. So we've got to be alert." Looking at AJ seriously. "All of us."

AJ sighed heavily as she realized something. "This is it, isn't it? It's starting."

Punk didn't pretend not to understand what she was talking about. This war that Punk kicked off—literally—between himself and Laurinaitis…it was about to shift into high-gear. He knew that. Laurinaitis was a cornered animal, desperate to hold on to power, and for that to happen, he would have to seize control of the WWE Championship. And that was not something that Punk was going to allow to happen.

"Yeah, AJ," he uttered, gravely. "Yeah, it is."

As she saw the tension in his posture, the way that nervousness seemed to be radiating from him, it took all of AJ's strength not to walk over and wrap her arms around him, to whisper in his ear that everything was going to be okay. She knew that now wasn't the time for being tender; now was the time to plan, to get ready for a fight.

She watched as Punk's green eyes grew solemn as he looked at their friends, wondering what was going on inside his head as he spoke. "Guys…look, starting tonight, the shit's really going to hit the fan. It might be a good idea for you guys to keep your distance as much as possible from me. It's my fight and I don't want to drag—"

"Alright, you can stop all that, man," Kofi spoke up. He had known Punk for years, they had traveled up and down the road together as "road wives" many times. "Dude, you're gonna need help with whatever's going down. And if you need me, I've got your back."

"Same here, fella," Sheamus patted Punk on the back in solidarity. "I knew what I was doing when I jumped out there. And there are two things an Irishman never turns his back from—his friends, or a fight."

AJ chuckled, as did the others at his comment. Over the last month or so, she and Sheamus had become quite close. Not romantically, of course, but the Irishman had taken a liking to AJ, acting as her surrogate big brother whenever Punk wasn't around to protect her. And he had grown on her, the petite Diva having developed an appreciation for his odd Irish tales and his strange, yet amusing sense of humor. More than that, she had come to appreciate the big heart that the Great White had displayed for them; no wonder Kaitlyn liked him so such, AJ realized with approval.

"I think if Layla was around, she'd say the same thing—We're all in, Punk," Kaitlyn promised, her eyes drifting to AJ as she stood and walked to her BFF's side. "For both of you."

A grateful smile adorned AJ's face as her fist bumped with Kaitlyn's in their signature "Chickbusters" handshake, the two taking a moment to laugh. It was times like this that AJ was so glad to have Kaitlyn here with her again. It horrified the Union City native to think back on how close she came to losing Kaitlyn after that downward spiral she tumbled down post-Daniel. Kaitlyn was more like family to her than a friend, she was the sister AJ never had.

While she was pleased to see a faint smile appear on Punk's face, there wasn't nearly enough of it to ease her concerns over his state of mind. So, she knew what she had to do. "Guys, can you give me and Punk a minute alone?"

Without an argument, her friends left the room as quick as they could. Once alone, she walked up to him, placing her small hand on his bicep as she looked up at him. "Punk? Baby, what's wrong?"

The frustration was easy for her to read on him. In the time they had been together, she had rather quickly learned how to read his body language, and all of his moods. The way his hand kept rubbing at his face and back through his slick hair, how he would often scratch at the spot just below his earlobe on his neck told her that he was worried.

Softly, she insisted. "Phil?"

Sighing, he relented. "I'm just worried about tonight, is all. I mean, I know you can take on Vickie, no problem. It's just…I have no idea what Laurinaitis is planning, and for all I know, this is his way of trying to get to you to get to me, and I just—"

"Baby, stop," she cut him off gently. "Don't do that to yourself. You have to stay focused, or he's already won. You can't worry about me while you're out there."

"You think I don't know that?" he huffily pointed out, throwing his hands up in the air. "God, I know what to expect from Jericho and from Ziggler, hell even from Vickie, but with that goofball planning God-knows-what—"

"Are you listening to yourself?" she argued. "Punk, sweetie…listen to me." She took his taped-up hand in hers. "I know what you're thinking. And I adore you for it. But I've trained for this just like you. Don't worry about protecting me out there, I can take care of myself. I'm stronger than I look, remember?"

"I know," he hastily assured her, and AJ was trying to decipher whether it was a sincere validation of his faith in her or just a quick way to get her to shut up. She was desperately hoping for the former. The thought of being a distraction to Punk out there, when he needed most to be on top of his game, was unbearable for her. It would have been an affirmation of everything that Daniel accused her of being in the past.

"I know, babe. I just…I worry about you, you know?"

The sincerity of his words reflected in his eyes sent tingles down her toes. AJ had never seen Daniel, or any other man, look at her with such conviction of his feelings, such truth. That was the thing with Punk, one of the many things she loved about the man—he was always real, always honest with her.

With Daniel, it was always a game of trying to figure out what he was thinking, because he always internalized and kept things to himself, leaving her to wonder what his motives were. There were no games or guessing needed with Punk. For her, his heart was as visible and as naked as the tattoos across his sleeves. Which is why she had little, if any trouble believing him when he said that.

A faint smile on her face, she brought one of his tattooed fingers to her lips, pressing them against his skin gently. "And I worry about you, too, baby. Which is why you have to focus up. If I knew that you worrying about me ended up getting you hurt, it'd drive me crazy."

Punk smirked. "More than you already are, you mean?"

Playfully, she smacked his stomach. "Jerk."

Sighing, he brought his hands up to her shoulders. "You're right. I'm losing it. I gotta get back in the game instead of worrying about what could happen out there."

"I'll tell you what's gonna happen," she assured him as she reached up and brushed his sideburns with her hand, relishing the scratchy feel of his facial hair under her sensitive hand as she met his eyes. "We're going to go out there tonight with Sheamo, he's gonna Brogue Kick the bleach off Ziggler's head, you're going to put Jericho to sleep with a GTS and I am going to knee Vickie's face off with a Shining Wizard, the referee's going to raise out hands in victory, and we're going to celebrate by rocking that bedroom in your tour bus like a hurricane later tonight."

She could feel herself blush at that last part, particularly when the pierced corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile as he gently pulled her closer.

A relieved laugh escaped his lips. "I guess I am a little tense, aren't I?"

"A tad high-strung," she smiled with a shrug. "But it's really sweet."

That confident smirk she had come to love reappeared on Punk's face. "Well, I am a sweet kind of guy."

Laughing, she gently kissed him on the mouth, feeling a shiver of pleasure as his lip piercing grazed her own lips. "Save it for later, lover. They'll be plenty of time for me to enjoy the sweet guy later. Right now, Sheamus and I need the 'Best In The World' to go out there tonight and do what he does best…kick ass and take no prisoners."

"Yes, m'aam," he promised confidently.

"Now, _that's_ my guy," AJ smiled, pleased. "Look, I'm just gonna go get some water. But I'll be back in a few, okay?"

"Cool," he grinned, pressing his mouth to her hand, a gesture that never failed to make her knees all jello-y. "I'll be here."

* * *

"That worried, huh?" Kaitlyn noted as she and AJ swung by catering, AJ selecting a bottle of water while Kaitlyn helped herself to some fruit salad.

"Yeah," AJ shrugged. "It was sweet, in a weird sort of way."

Kaitlyn smiled and shook her head. "He's just concerned, AJ. He worries about you, you know that."

A frown came over AJ's pretty face at those words. "That's what worries _me_, Kay."

"Huh?"

AJ's hand began wringing the water bottle as she sighed. "I just…I just don't want him to be so wrapped up in thinking about protecting me out there that he gets hurt. I mean…Jericho and Ziggler are pretty tough wrestlers, and I don't want to be a distraction—"

"Okay, hold your horses, young Padawan," Kaitlyn held her hands up. "That's not you talking, that's all that self-doubt-y crap that Daniel plugged into your head. You are so not a distraction. You have to get that thought out of your mind, girl, otherwise it's just going to ruin things between you two."

AJ bit her lip. "I can't help it, Kay. I just want to know that he'll be okay out there."

"He will be," Kaitlyn assured her. "I mean, c'mon, he's Punk. You know, 'Best In the World' and all that? This isn't his first rodeo. He knows what he's doing out there. C'mon, you're worrying too much about this. It'll be fine. He'll bounce back like some poor jobber's head after he hits one of those roundhouse kick thingies."

The Geek Goddess allowed herself a laugh at that. This was always how it was between the two of them; Kaitlyn was the balance to her brand of crazy, the practical one, the one who kept her sane when she was freaking out.

"You're right…of course, you're right," AJ relented with a smile.

"Aren't I always?" Kaitlyn teased.

AJ rolled her eyes, playfully. "Know-it-all."

"Spaz," the blonde replied jokingly.

"Doofus."

"Dork."

"I always figured you two would take each others' heads off eventually," came a familiar voice that made AJ immediately tense and Kaitlyn scowl in distaste.

They turned to see Daniel Bryan, holding a rose in hand, with a somewhat smug look on his face. "But then, you always did have a way of surrounding yourself with strange people, AJ."

AJ hated the way that the note of condescension in his voice made something in her instinctively shrivel back, just like before in the old days. The way that he somehow instinctively knew where the weak spots in her psyche were.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she said nothing, though she contemplated about a thousand ways to respond to that remark, when Kaitlyn beat her to the punch. "Sure she does. I mean, look at you, Weirdy-Beardy. Doesn't get any stranger than a guy who doesn't own a TV and is, like, what, 4 feet tall?"

AJ's snicker made Daniel's eyes narrow at the pair of Divas.

"Always a pleasure, Kaitlyn," he replied facetiously. "But if you don't mind, I'd like a word with your pal AJ for a moment."

"As a matter of fact, Maroon Boy, I _do_ mind," Kaitlyn snapped, folding her arms across her chest as she stared him down. "You really think I'm stupid enough to leave you here to fill her head with whatever garbage you've—?"

"Kay, it's alright," came AJ's voice, the smaller Diva's eyes set with a resolved look.

Stunned, Kaitlyn stared at her best friend. "AJ, you don't have to—"

"Really kinda do," AJ quietly admitted. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

Reluctant to leave her alone with the conniving ex-world champ, but understanding that this is what AJ wanted, the Houston-raised beauty nodded. "I'll be waiting for you outside. I won't be far," that last part was directed specifically at Daniel as she turned a hardened glare at him.

"Got it," nodded AJ, as she and her longtime friend exchanged their signature Chickbusters handshake again before Kaitlyn left them alone, throwing one last glare at Bryan before she left.

Daniel shook his head, annoyed. "I still don't have any idea why you hang out with her."

Her response was quick and biting. "If you came here to judge me on my friends again, get lost. I've got a match to get ready for, and one _insanely_ gorgeous boyfriend I'd like to spend time kissing before then."

She smiled dreamily to herself at the thought of Punk's lips grazing her own in their heated rhythm.

His expression darkened at her obvious happiness, a pang of jealousy rising up within him before he squashed it down. "I caught your little cameo on WWE Backstage Fallout. So, I'm _short_, now?"

She smirked wickedly at him. "No, not now. You were short when I first met you, too. And apparently long before then, unless the Midget Fairy tapped you with her wand before you came into the WWE."

He was a little taken aback by the spunk that she was showing him, that he thought he had squashed out of her long ago. The old AJ would have never dared to poke fun at him like this. Immediately, he realized that using his old bullying tactics would not work with this new AJ before him. But that was fine. He was a genius, he told himself, so he'd just find a different tactic.

"You never minded it before," he smiled at her, his tone growing slightly husky as he tried to cup her cheek.

But she slapped his hand away as if it were an annoying gnat trying to bite her, surprising him again. "Maybe I just wanted someone a little closer to eye level for a while," she smiled sarcastically. "But I do love me some of those taller guys. So much more of them to love, you know?"

Giving him a head to toe glance. "Oh, wait, I guess you _wouldn't_ know, would you?" she smiled sweetly.

A flare of rage spiked up within him, Daniel fighting to keep in control of his temper, keep from lashing out at AJ for _daring_ to speak to him like that. She was no one to…_no wait. Don't get mad. That won't do any good. Just relax and stick to the plan…_

Forcing a smile, Daniel said, "I guess I deserve that."

"Believe me, what you deserve, you better hope never comes to you," she replied coldly. "Already bored to tears now, so if you don't mind—"

"Whoa, whoa, wait!" he insisted as he held out his arm to block her from leaving. "Wait, let me start over, okay? Okay…" He took a deep breath, remembering everything he wrote down the day before. "Wow, this is hard. Um…I'm sorry."

Okay, that, AJ admitted to herself, she was not expecting. She cocked her head as she studied him. "You…sorry." Her tone was somewhat scoffing.

"Yeah," Daniel shrugged. "I guess after looking back, I…I realized that when we were together, I was kind of…"

"A jackass?" AJ offered, "helpfully". "A narcissistic asshole? An emotionally abusive son-of-a-bitch? A royal dickhead with a Napoleonic Complex and a goat face? Or, I don't know, E, all of the above?"

Mouthing the word 'Goat Face?' in confusion and annoyance—to which AJ only eagerly nodded—Daniel gritted his teeth briefly before he calmed himself. "I was going to say 'a jerk.' And I was a…bad boyfriend. I was in a bad place then, and I messed things up between us. So…yeah, I'm sorry."

He presented the rose to her, smiling in a saccharinely sweet manner. "So, are we cool?"

There would have been a time long ago when those words would have brought AJ to tears, where the once-love-starved, desperate girl she used to be would have thrown her arms around him eagerly and peppered his face with kisses at the tender words and the sweet gesture he offered.

But as well as Daniel thought he knew AJ, the same could be said of how well AJ knew him; one of those things being how good he was at chess, for example. She knew he was always thinking, always looking at the pieces, waiting for his move. And she knew him well enough to know that Daniel Bryan never made a move without a reason.

Smiling, she took the rose from his hands. "Wow, Daniel, I…I don't know what to say. That's just so sweet."

She watched the all-too-controlled smile on his face. "Yes, it is."

Her sweet smile never left her face as she looked into those blue eyes that once held her in sway. "Now…what are you _really_ up to?"

His face fell as he processed her words. "Uh, what am I up to? AJ, I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Cut the bullshit, Daniel," AJ continued to smile, yet the edge in her voice was sharp enough to slice open an artery, old memories of Daniel's harsh words, his loud screams and his perpetually angry eyes racing through her brain. "Did you forget that this is me you're talking to? I know you like the back of my hand. I've seen your playbook, I know all your secrets and I know all of your moves. And I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't be here without a reason."

"C'mon, AJ," he stammered as he literally began to backpedal, the smaller girl backing into his personal space with each step as he was forced to retreat backwards. "I'm just trying to be nice here—"

"You don't do nice. You're not capable of nice," she reminded him, her tone cold now as she backed him into a wall. "I don't know what you're up to, but if you think for even a second that you're somehow going to use me to get to Punk and his title, you've got another thing coming…_Goat_ _Face_. So, if you want to be WWE Champion so badly, my advice? Stop the mind games bullshit with me, hit the gym, drink some milk and grow a few inches taller, say your prayers and _then_ try your luck against Punk. Because that is the only way you'll ever have a shot in hell at beating him."

Stunned to the point where he lost the words, Bryan had nearly no retort as he stared into AJ's simmering brown eyes, finding a fierce fire within those damnably deep chocolate orbs that was rather intimidating for him, even coming from a girl who was at least half-a-foot shorter than he was.

"Just so you know…no, Daniel, we're not cool." Her reply was cold as ice. "We will _never_ be cool, not after everything you did to me." Idly twirling the rose in her hands, she returned her gaze to him. "And as for your little present?"

In a move that shocked him to no end, she held up the rose to her lips, sweetly…before she tore the rose's head off with her teeth, as if it were the head of a bat that Ozzy Osbourne used to tear the head off of during his touring days, before she spit it out without any regard.

"My boyfriend already gives me those," she smirked, as she slammed the stem into his chest. "I'd tell you where you could stick the stem, but…well, we are a PG-show."

With that, she turned on her heels to go, when Daniel, after swallowing the shock, found his voice again. "Tell me what it is about him."

She stopped suddenly, turning back to him despite her urge to keep walking until she could find Punk's locker room and have his strong arms wrap around her, making her forget all of this unpleasantness. "About who?"

"Punk, who else?" he demanded. "He's just some overhyped, over-tattooed goofball with a few jokes. And what's more, he's dragging you in the middle of his fights now. What kind of man is that?"

AJ snorted angrily as his audacity, especially considering their past. "Oh, because you're one to talk, because it's not like you set me up to get run over by Big Show a few months ago or kept using me as a human shield just to protect your precious world title, right? Punk never asked me to be a part of this, but you know what? I'm not afraid to stand by his side, and I'll gladly do it, because when you love someone that's what you do."

Her face went scarlet at her admission. Yes, she relented to herself, she was in love with Phil Brooks aka CM Punk.

Like, head over heels, ass-in-the-clouds, the hills-are-alive, finally-understanding-what-all-those-sappy-love-songs-are-talking-about in love. She had never felt so strongly about anyone as she did for the Windy City Saint. Being with him was like…like harnessing a tornado. Like having a wild, untamable stallion gently come to her hand, or smoothly sailing across an unpredictable tidal wave.

It was unlike anything that she had ever experienced before, and it was like being on a roller-coaster—addicting and chaotic and a constant, nonstop adrenaline rush.

She took some delight at the way her words made Daniel's eyes burn enviously. "So, you're in love with him? Please, AJ, haven't you learned anything from the past? It's so obvious that the only reason he wants to keep you around is so that he can duck behind you when John Laurinaitis sends whatever goon squad he's got gunning after him. He's just using you."

The words should have bothered her—and a few months ago, she might have even believed him—but the way Punk had showered her with nothing but affection and care all this time, it was like Daniel's barbs were bouncing helplessly off Captain America's indestructible shield, or something.

She merely smirked. "Right, using me. The way he treats me like I'm special, spends time with me, talks all night with me, cooks for me, on occasion, stands up for me when I'm threatened with termination by some suit with a power trip…oh, yeah, what a bastard."

"Exactly," Daniel nodded, despite knowing that he was losing this battle. "He's just playing you with the 'sensitive hero' shtick to make you think he's some kind of white knight. But I know Punk, sweetie, I know exactly what he's capable of."

"So do I," AJ snapped, her patience officially running dry. She was not going to stand here and let her jerkoff ex-from-hell run Punk's name through the ground. "You think I care about what he did in his past? He made some mistakes, but he's different now, he's a good and decent man, and he's everything I've ever wanted."

"And yet, when I try to tell you that I've changed, you don't buy that? I don't deserve a second chance, unlike the great CM Punk?" Daniel asked, accusingly. "That's a little hypocritical of you, isn't it, AJ? Why does he get a whitewash when I don't? What does he have that I don't?"

"Hmm, let's think about that, shall we?" AJ pretended to think it over. "One one hand, Punk, sexy, honest, funny, inspiring, kind, was there for me when I needed someone badly…and on the other hand, Daniel, lying, conniving dirtbag jerk who broke my heart and abused me at every turn…top it off with him being really short for a man."

Weighing her two hands opposite her, she merely shrugged, tilting it towards the Punk hand. "Sorry, Danny, but the stats are in, and, well, you have to face facts…in every way, CM Punk is Better. Than. You."

Throwing him a smirk and a cheeky wink, AJ skipped right out of catering with that, a sense of overwhelming satisfaction and even a little bit of closure.

Livid, Daniel angrily grabbed a fruit punch bowl and hurled it against the wall. With dismay, he realized that this was going to be a lot trickier than he thought. AJ was smarter now, a lot stronger, and even he could not deny that there was a kind of glow to her now that he hadn't seen, even since the early days of their own relationship.

And damn it all, even with all the cutting insults and barbs about his height and his beard, there was something about his ex-girlfriend now that was just…irresistible. It was kind of hot, seeing her all assertive and confident, Daniel relented. And it only fueled his desire to have her back on his arm again.

But there just had to be a way to pry her from Punk's tattooed grip, to put some tarnish in that coat of armor AJ seemed to think he wore. He'd have to wait and bide his time. Watch for his opening. But he was confident that sooner or later—especially after the little seed he planned to plant in Laurinaitis's head concerning the Voice of the Voiceless—that Punk would make a mistake, and leave the door wide open for Daniel to slide on in and take back what, in his mind, belonged to him.

And then, it struck him. With a devilish smile, he realized how he might be able to kill two birds with one stone all in one night…

* * *

**TBC…**

* * *

Well, that's a wrap for now! More on the way soon - the conclusion of Smackdown, from Sheamus's POV. In case you're wondering, him and Kaitlyn are going to be the other centerpieces of this story, and whatever I can think of to tie into the "Core Four" series.

By the way, make sure to check out World Tour by RonRon10 and "Keeping them apart" by Pikasixjoy, part of the Core Four Series, which ties into this story.

And remember, send in a video via PM or Facebook (Jean-theGuardian) by Saturday, July 14 at 11 p.m. and maybe YOU can be featured in the coming chapter! And **like me on Facebook**, send me a PM and keep the Punk/AJ vigil alive!

Later, playas! Holla Holla!

-Jean-theGuardian


	11. Part 10point5

A/N: When your ship is blessed by a leprechaun, it HAS to be true love! hahaha

Quick note: This is NOT the next chapter. Think of this as chapter 10.5 LOL But after seeing Eve act all bitchy to Punkers this past Monday night (and yeah, I'll address last RAW later this week in the real chapter - Proposal! Hug! AJ FINALLY Slapping Daniel! "Big Money!" Hornswoggle! Haha) I just HAD to respond in my own way…call it a little plot bunny that refused to stop chewing on my leg until I fed it. (morbid much? lol)

Special shout to everyone who reviewed, and big ups to DemonicXaliv for being the FIRST entrant into my little AJ/Punk mini-contest. Remember folks, send me your 1 minute video entries by Saturday, and you can guest star in an upcoming chapter or have featured a Superstar/Diva of your choice!

This one will be quick, until the next chapter later this week. On with the show!

* * *

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 10.5**

* * *

**Smackdown - Punk's Locker Room**

**Before the Bell**

* * *

The chords and drums of Metallica's "Enter Sandman" blasted in Punk's ears as he warmed up with several high-extension kicks, loosening the muscles in his powerful legs while he warmed up.

This was how he loosened up before matches, how he toned the body and put his mind at ease. It had always worked well, dating back to when he was just a goofy teenage kid doing backyard wrestling with his buddies out of a warehouse in Mokena, Illinois. When he was trading blows with the likes of wrestling legend Raven and fellow indy stars Austin Aries, AJ Styles and Samoa Joe in Ring of Honor. When he was the star rookie working his way up the ranks in McMahon's version of ECW. When he finally cracked the big time making the RAW Roster in 2008. And even on the night when he finally won his first World Heavyweight Championship by cashing in his Money in the Bank briefcase on edge.

He needed this release, a few moments where the world and all of its responsibilities—protecting AJ, defending his title, Laurinaitis, Jericho, Daniel Bryan, all of it—would fade away and it was just him in his element, focusing, yet relaxing, clearing his mind.

And his mind was just full of thoughts. The wolves were at the gate, and he knew it. It was only a matter of time before he would find out what Laurinaitis had planned for him, and something told him it wasn't going to be pretty. And while AJ had assured him that she could take care of herself, the fact was, Punk knew the pressure of keeping her out of harm's way from here on out was completely on his shoulders. If she got hurt, it would be his fault, for putting her in that position in the first place, for not being good enough to protect her. He had never felt that kind of pressure before in his life. Top it all off, he STILL had to defend his championship.

But at the same time, he acknowledged that AJ had a point. The more he worried himself thinking about this, the more likely he was to end up making a costly mistake, and that simply would not do. For the man known as the "Best in the World," it would simply not be becoming of him to make mistakes out there. He had to smile a little at how it was AJ herself who made him realize that. She was that sturdy mast that held his sails even in the stormiest sea, the rock that he could anchor his ship to. They just balanced each other so well that it was almost freaky how in sync they were. It was only her words that were able to get the WWE Champion's head focused back to where he needed to be for this match tonight.

Hearing a knock on his door, he smiled, thinking it was AJ. "Come on in, babe, door's open."

As he turned to face the opening door, however, his smile faded as he took in a most unwelcome sight that was definitely **NOT** his sweet AJ.

"Don't mind if I do, champ," came the rather smug voice of Eve Torres, clad in short gray skirt, a low-cut black blouse and glasses.

Punk groaned as his eyes briefly looked up to the ceiling and down at his shoes again. He was sure that there were about a couple million men in the world that would have loved to have a hot chick like Eve walk in on them, but he was definitely not one of them.

"You know, uh, a girl could get used to you calling her 'babe,'" she smiled rather coquettishly, twirling an idle strand of hair.

"Well, **MY** girl is already used to it," he replied brusquely, regarding her from head to toe. "What do you want, Eve?"

"Well, I just came to wish you good luck," Eve replied innocently. "Is that so wrong?"

Punk scoffed, cynically. "Everything about you is wrong, Eve. Oh, but good luck to you, too, getting off all that spray-tanner after the show."

"Spray tanner?" Eve bristled. "I'll have you know this is a _completely_ natural tan."

"Then why have I never seen that shade of orange anywhere in nature?" Punk wondered aloud, smirking. "Oh, wait a minute, yes I have…it's called 'Oompa Loompa.'"

Tongue in cheek, Eve forced a wry smile, forcing herself to remain calm. She was more dignified than to get into a verbal spat with a mere wrestler…no matter how hot he was. "Cute, Punk, very amusing. I meant to say good luck trying to retain as champion. You poked the biggest shark around here in the eye, and now he's coming to swallow you whole."

Punk merely smiled. "Toots, John Laurinaitis is hardly a shark, he's like a retarded guppy with a gland problem that makes him think he's a shark. I've jumped his fiery hoops before, and I've still walked out on top, and whatever you, him and Mr. Jennifer Hudson can think of next, I'll beat those odds, too. Now if that's all you had to say, then why don't you run along—"

"Not exactly," she cut him off, keeping her tone poised and controlled at all times. By now, Eve had come to know just what it took in this man's world, and she knew exactly what kinds of buttons to push in a man. "I can't even imagine the pressure you have to be under now. I mean, it's one thing to have to defend the most prestigious championship in the business…but add to that the burden of defending someone who, quite frankly, is pretty much a liability around the ring—"

"What are you babbling about, Eve?" Punk impatiently cut her off, not liking where he presumed she was going.

Her smile was snake-like. "I'm talking about AJ, of course. She's 95 pounds soaking wet, and is an extremely emotional girl that doesn't think twice about throwing herself into harm's way around people she cares about. I mean, we both know what she was willing to do when she was with Daniel Bryan. And I heard about that little stunt she pulled after you and your little friends all went celebrating at a club last Monday. I'd be willing to bet she'd take a bullet for you, wouldn't she?"

"Maybe, but, guess what? I'd do the same for her in a heartbeat," Punk bit out, his hardened eyes glowering at Eve.

Amused, her lips twitched. "Oh, how sweet. But this isn't like the movies, Romeo. This is real life. I mean, we know you can take a beating and keep getting up for more, but AJ's just so…fragile. One wrong bump from a guy who outweighs her by a few hundred pounds and her career could be over. And under your watch, too, as her boyfriend? That would cost you a few man points in the eyes of more than a few folks up top. In a sense, her career, and yours, are all resting on you now, aren't they?"

He hated the way her words twisted into his psyche, playing on his still-too-fresh insecurities. How she seemed to see right into the cracks of his defenses and chipped away at them mercilessly. Because deep down, he knew she was right. AJ had been dragged into this because of him. If his girlfriend got hurt and he couldn't protect her, what kind of a man would that make him?

_Not a man at all_, was the bitter thought echoing in his head.

Eve forced herself not to smile as she took in the troubled look in his clouded green eyes, deciding to twist the knife even further as she let her hand rest on his left bicep, silently relishing the hard muscle she found there. "And what's more, it's kind of strange that…you've been WWE Champion for over half the year already, but, well, it can't be easy…"

"What can't be easy, _Eve_?" he demanded, wishing that this bitch would just go away already and let him prepare in peace.

"Well, you've had great matches, the best of the year so far, everyone knows that," she said in fake sincerity. "And yet you've been overshadowed by…what was that list again?...The Rock, John Cena, Triple H, Brock Lesnar, hell, even Big Show. And now when the WWE Universe is finally buzzing about you again, all they can talk about is you and…AJ? _Really_? They find your personal life more fascinating than your in-ring talent?

"You're the cover boy of the WWE 13 video game, the so-called 'Best in the World' and the reigning WWE Champion…yet they can't talk about you without mentioning some scrawny little no-name ring rat who was jerking the curtain only a year ago while you were dropping pipe bombs and changing the landscape of this company?" Her smirk was cruel. "Wow, that must be pretty…_emasculating_."

His temper was crackling and he admitted to himself, if Eve was a man, he'd have her swallowing her teeth right now. But Punk was raised by a strict code he learned from his mother—women are to be respected, and never struck physically...no matter how much Eve deserved it.

But forcing down that thought, he grinned a wolf-like smile at her. She was a conniving little minx, he'd give her that, but if she wanted to bust his balls, then he was going to give her something to remember why he was the Master of the Pipe Bomb.

"Emasculating…you'd know _all_ about that, wouldn't you, Eve?" he smirked, noting how her smug grin faltered just a little bit at the evil look he was giving her. "Taking a man as respected and as revered as Teddy Long, the former GM of Smackdown, and making him wear a name tag and a maid outfit. Stringing along Zack Ryder and kicking him right in the nuts after you cost him one of the biggest matches of his career at Wrestlemania. Using your tits and ass to play Zack and Cena and Kane against each other, so you could get a little buzz to generate what, up until then…was a pretty stale career."

He chuckled as her posture tensed and her lips pursed tightly, her light green eyes narrowed as she took in his stinging words. "I mean, you talk about me being overshadowed, but you know what? Not only am I all the buzz now, but I've already _been_ all the buzz. I've made it to the top, I've fought the big dogs and earned all the respect I've gotten, without having to kiss anyone's ass to do it. And as far as me being overshadowed by AJ? Hey, lots of famous wrestlers have been attached to beautiful women. Macho Man had Miss Elizabeth. Shawn Michaels had Sensational Sherri. Triple H had Stephanie McMahon. Christian had Trish Stratus, for a little while. Edge—remember him? Hall of Famer?—he had Lita...well, before I had her, but whatever. So, no, I'm not ashamed to be seen with AJ, I consider it an honor, especially because I know the kind of woman she is, how she fits with me. But you? You've been in this company for…how long now?"

"Four years," she tersely replied.

"Ah, four years," Punk nodded condescendingly. "You've been Divas Champ twice in that time, and yet…you couldn't draw a single reaction out of the crowd, could you? I mean, the times you came out there, I could have heard crickets. But the rest of the Divas…Mickie James, Melina, Beth Phoenix, Michelle McCool, Maryse, Kelly Kelly, and she can't even _wrestle_, and even the _Bella_ _Twins_…all of them got a pretty decent sized pop. The audience cared about them enough so that they would actually pay attention. You on the other hand…well, the only thing you inspire when your music hits, is a reminder that it's time to take a bathroom break. For a woman with as many gifts as you possess, even _Hornswoggle_ has more excitement around him than you. There's a word for people like you in this business, too, Eve…_failure_."

Hitting at the Achilles heel of her ego—Eve's insecurity towards her success—was the last straw for Eve as she lashed out, her hand flying towards Punk's face, only for the champion to catch it effortlessly in his steely grip.

"Don't even try it, honey," he smirked. "Don't act like a child because you wanted to play a battle of wits against someone just a little bit wiser than you and you lost."

Angrily, she jerked her hand out of his grip, rubbing her wrist as she glared hatefully at him. And the twisted part of it was…she still wanted him so badly it was killing her.

"So, are we done here?" he asked matter-of-factly. "Because I've gotta go kick Jericho and Ziggler's teeth in, so I really need to prepare, and you need to get the hell out of my locker room."

Taking in a deep breath to compose herself, Eve forced a smile. "Oh, I'll go, because I have things to do, but believe me, Punk…we're not done."

"That sounded like a come-on, Miss Torres," he replied mockingly. "And there's a strict sexual harassment policy in this company. Keep it up and I might have to report you to HR. I know you want me, but a little professionalism, please."

Rather than get angry—outwardly, anyway—she merely gave him a rather steamy smile. "Well, too bad. The possibilities could be…intriguing. But if you ever feel like stepping out of the kiddie pool and into the deep end…I'll be around."

She heard him scoffing as she turned on her heels and left, but Eve was not daunted. She was accustomed to getting what she wanted, as of late, and one way or another, she would have CM Punk; all she had to do was to get rid of that little twit AJ, first.

Smiling wickedly, she realized exactly who she needed for the job…

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

Well, that's a wrap for now! Hopefully it will hold you over until we see the last part of Smackdown through the eyes of the Great White, Sheamus, later this week. Read, review and like me on Facebook (Jean-theGuardian) and be sure to check for the latest update soon.

If you Sa-MEEEE-LALALALALLALALALALA-LOWWW! What **#TeamAJPunk**…Is…Cookin'! (raises eyebrow)

**-Jean-theGuardian**


	12. Part 11 ATale of ThreeSmackdownsSheamus

A/N: Congratulations to **DemonicXaliv**, the winner in my "CM Punk/AJ movie contest"! I'll be featuring her in an upcoming chapter of Hard to Handle coming up in the next few days. Check out her winning **YouTube** entry video, done using the song "**First** **Time**" by Lifehouse, under her screenname "**Demon05**" when you get a chance! It's AWESOME!

Well, Money in the Bank is this Sunday! And I, like many of you on #TeamAJPunk, will be desperately rooting for Punk to retain and for AJ/Punk goodness to continue! But bear in mind, just enjoy the ride and be glad that three very deserving talents have the chance to be showcased in what has become WWE's hottest story of the year. Big ups to all three of them in delivering a story that has delivered the way few others have in ages! (And if the story goes south for us shippers, hey, there's always fanfiction for happy endings! lol)

There was even some Punk/AJ goodness on Twitter and even at Comic-Con, I understand. Punk said, and I quote, "AJ I'm POSITIVE I can make happy!" which drew a pop from the crowd. _Yeah, they __**know**__ #TeamAJPunk is what's up_! Lol And he also praised AJ's work in the storyline, calling her an 'exceptional Diva.' She really is!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I'll give you all a proper thanks in the next chapter, promise! Meanwhile, it's late, but I managed to finish this chapter, featuring the thoughts of the Great White, Sheamus! Enjoy!

* * *

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 11**

**A Tale of Three Smackdowns - Sheamus**

* * *

**Smackdown - Backstage**

**The Same Time**

* * *

_I kissed her._

That was the one thought that had been running through the mind of Sheamus for the last three days ever since the night he escorted Kaitlyn back to her hotel room.

_I kissed her…_

While he was training at the gym, or grabbing a bite to eat.

_I kissed her…_

While he was on the phone talking to relatives in Ireland. While he and Justin Gabriel were traveling towards Smackdown that day.

_I kissed her…_

While he was in catering grabbing a snack before the opening of the show. While he was idly talking to Punk, Gabriel and Kofi about some unimportant crap that he didn't care to remember right now.

Because all that ran through his mind was a simple action that he initiated only a few nights ago. He had taken the long road back with Kaitlyn, and it went off smoothly. They laughed, they joked, they flirted on and off, and yet, when the moment came to say goodnight as he walked her to her door, he had done something in the spur of the moment that he had never done before with Kaitlyn—he leaned down and kissed her. On the lips.

A full three seconds, to be exact. With that, he left a stunned Kaitlyn staring at him wide-eyed and shocked, before he awkwardly bid her goodnight…the Irishman still able to taste the tang of strawberry chap stick on her lips, but wondering if he had just made himself look like a complete and utter fool.

"So, you really kissed her?" a surprised and pleased Kofi asked him later while they were hanging out a few minutes after Punk's locker room talk with the gang.

"Yeah, I did," Sheamus replied simply after he relayed the story to him.

"Wow, man. Just…wow," he replied with a shake of his head. "That's huge. That's like…bigger than huge. So, what happened next?"

"I walked away," the bigger man shrugged as he took a swig of his bottled water.

Kofi looked at him, stunned. "Oh…well, you at least talked to her the next day, right?"

"Nope," Sheamus shook his head.

"The day after?"

"Nope"

"Yesterday?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Have you spoken with her at all since the kiss?"

Sheamus merely shook his head.

Kofi gaped at him. "You mean to tell me you've been _avoiding_ her this _entire_ _time_?"

A sheepish look crossed Sheamus's face before he took another swig of his bottled water. "Pretty much, yeah."

The West African native shook his head with a "tsk-tsk" as he regarded Sheamus. "Sheamo, dude, you never, _ever_ forget to call after something like that. That's like on the Top Ten list of Dating Don'ts."

"Well, what the hell was I supposed ta say, Kofi, huh?" Sheamus replied in frustration. "Fer all I know, she may have thought I overstepped me boundaries. The lass may even be pissed off at me." A worried look fell on his alabaster features. "Oh, God, what if she IS mad at me? Crap, I went bouldering in full-steam ahead and I didn't even think about the consequences. _Christ_, I'm stupid! What if she thinks I pressured her into somethin' she ain't ready fer yet? What if she's too embarrassed to speak to me—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, Irish, slow your roll," Kofi laughed, his trademark grin on his face. "Look, man, before you go jumping the gun, maybe you should talk to Kaitie first. Clear the air, let her know where you stand. The rest can work itself out."

After a sigh, Sheamus mused on Kofi's words. "Maybe yer right, fella. After all, I guess I probably should talk, especially after all the texts she was sending me."

"Whoa, wait, what?" Kofi blurted out, shocked. "She _texted_ you? How many times?"

"Just one or two, or…ten times," Sheamus admitted, embarrassed.

"_Ten times_! And you didn't give her a call _once_?" Kofi exclaimed.

"Hey, now! It's all just really confusing for me, ya know?" Sheamus retorted defensively.

Kofi facepalmed his forehead. "Oh, Sheamo, Sheamo…this is worse than I thought. You gotta do serious damage control, pal. Otherwise, she'll think you've been blowing her off, maybe that you're not interested, or that you think it was a mistake."

The thought of it made Sheamus's face fall and his heart sink. He certainly didn't want to give Kaitlyn _that_ impression. That kiss had been running through his mind for days now; it was all he could think about. The last thing he wanted to do was to insult her honor as a lady by making her think that he thought she wasn't worth his time.

"Christ, I really stepped in it this time, didn't I?" Sheamus muttered, running his hand across his face.

Kofi laughed as he empathically patted his friend on the shoulder. "Yeah, you kinda did. But, hey, at least you have a shot at fixing things. Just go find Kaitlyn and work things out from there."

The World Heavyweight Champion grinned for a moment, realizing that Kofi had a point. "Yer right, Kofi. Maybe I _can_ make sense of all this, after all." He gave Kofi an amiable slap on the back. "Now, if you'll excuse me fer a minute, I've got me one fine, fair-haired bonnie ta woo."

As he walked down the hallway in search of Kaitlyn, he didn't take long before he ran into the unwelcome sight of an old rival.

"Well, if it isn't the Great White himself," sneered Wade Barrett in his pompous English accent. "Running around the place with my World Title."

Sheamus merely laughed; ever since Barrett had come into the company with the Nexus in 2010, he had always harbored delusions of grandeur. "_Yer_ World Title?" He held up the gold-plated prize on his shoulder. "Last I checked it had _my_ name on it, Barrett."

"Only for the time being, mate," Barrett smirked. "My rehab's well ahead of progress, and when I return later this summer, it'll only be a matter of time before _I'm_ crowned as the next World Heavyweight Champion. Why, if I was medically cleared, I'd take it from you right now—"

"Blah, blah, blah, if wishes were fishes, I'd have me a cannery," Sheamus threw back, unimpressed. "Yer almost as full of hot air as that greased-up windbag Alberto Del Rio. The bottom line is, Barrett, yer _not_ medically cleared. But tell you what, fella, when ya do get back, come see me first thing and I'll be more than happy ta kick that over-jelled comb over on yer noggin clean off along with the rest of yer pompous head. Until then, Barrett, why don't ya do yerself a favor, and clear outta the champ's way…"

At that point, Sheamus's bemused smile melted into a hardened, intimidating glare. "…before I _kick_ you outta my way?"

A part of the former Bare Knuckle Brawler winced at the thought of making himself appear weaker in front of one of his most despised rivals. Barrett had always resented the attention and success that Sheamus commanded ever since he came into the company. Both men were in the WWE for roughly the same time period, yet while Barrett had managed to make a splash by leading the Nexus on a roughshod tear through WWE in 2010 and winning the Intercontinental Championship the following year, Sheamus's success had dwarfed his by far.

In just over two years, Sheamus had won the WWE Championship twice, as well as the United States Championship, the 2010 King of the Ring, the 2012 Royal Rumble, had defeated megastars such as John Cena, Randy Orton and Triple H, and was now parading around as the reigning World Heavyweight Champion. And worse, the WWE had seemed to get behind that pasty ginger, with this "Be a Star" anti-bullying campaign and all the hype and adoration from the fans that Sheamus received as he catapulted into stardom as one of the company's biggest draws. It was enough to make Barrett burst with jealous rage; he was better than Sheamus in every way, and he knew it. All of those accolades and notoriety should belong to _him_, not that flame-haired oaf.

Yet, despite his pride, Barrett was a smart, diabolically smart man. He knew that with his shoulder still on the mend, he was in no position to get into a physical confrontation with the obscenely powerful Great White. It would only set his return back. There would be a time and place for a reckoning with Sheamus, and that would be when the odds were in his favor.

So, swallowing a bit of pride, Barrett smirked as he backed away. "Just remember, Sheamus…when I get back, I won't be so easy to kick."

"Well, I do love meself a challenge, fella," Sheamus merely smirked. "Do me a favor and leave a return date somewhere on my locker. I'll make sure to set aside a Brogue Kick fer ya, just fer that occasion."

With that, Sheamus turned his back on the British brawler and continued onwards down the hall in search of…

"Kaitlyn!" he blurted out as he caught her coming out of catering. Cursing himself for appearing too eager, he tried to cool things down as he slowed his trot to her to an easy stroll. "So, uh…what's the crack, lass? Everything alright?"

Startled, Kaitlyn looked up at him, her troubled look—a result of leaving AJ alone with Daniel—turning into one of pleasant surprise as her expressive brown eyes widened.

"Sheamus! Uh, um…I wasn't…wow! I'm really glad I ran into you."

A smile found its way to his face. "You are, are ya?"

Blushing, Kaitlyn tried to downplay it. "Uh, yeah…it's just nice to see a friendly face around, you know?"

A slight sense of disappointment came over him before he brushed it off. "Well, that's certainly true enou…"

He trailed off as he saw her turn wary eyes back towards catering. "Somethin' wrong, Kaitie?"

The troubled blonde sighed. "It's just…I left AJ in there alone."

Off his confused stare, she elaborated. "With Daniel."

Confusion changed to abrupt anger. Sheamus had taken a real disliking towards Daniel for the last several months, in large part to how he treated AJ, who he had come to think of as a little sister, during their relationship, and after. "_What_? That little pipsqueak's in there alone with AJ? Why, when I get my hands on that little rat, I'm gonna—"

"Sheamus, stop!" Kaitlyn raised her hands, blocking his movement towards the catering hall. "Believe me, I'm not crazy about this, either. But AJ insisted on doing this alone. Y'know…one of those closure things."

Despite his protective instincts towards AJ—third, in fact, only to Kaitlyn and Punk—Sheamus reluctantly understood what Kaitlyn was saying. AJ had grown up a lot since she and Punk had gotten together, Sheamus knew that. She had grown stronger, tougher, a far cry from that fragile, jumpy little thing he remembered her to be while she was with Bryan. As much as he wanted to be by her side, he figured that she needed to fight some battles herself.

"Fine, then," Sheamus sighed in resignation as he allowed his posture to relax just a little. "But if that little toad doesn't mind his manners around AJ, I'll tear that stupid goat's beard right off his face and make him eat it."

Kaitlyn laughed at that image. "I'd actually pay to see that."

At that, Sheamus smiled. "I'd give ya that show fer free, if it pleases ya, Kaitie."

She giggled, letting her hand rest on his large bicep. "I'll keep that on file, for now."

Suddenly, she grew conscious of the fact that her hand was on the large, solid muscle of his arm, and her face grew crimson, just as Sheamus's face did.

Quickly, she withdrew her hand—much to both of their regrets—as she brushed a stray strand of dark-and-blonde highlighted hair back from her face. The simple gesture captivated Sheamus. Everything about this girl drew him in. Her voice, her face, her humor, the kind of quiet strength that she radiated.

"So, um…you, uh…you never got back to any of my texts," Kaitlyn said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. The kiss that Sheamus surprised her with—however brief it was—had haunted her thoughts for the last several days.

She could still remember the way the salty tang of his bottom lip tasted. Had it lasted just a little longer, she admitted to herself, she probably would have kissed him back. But instead, he just said goodbye and left…and then, despite her constantly texting him…

_Hey, Sheamo. Kaitie. Wazzup? Call me later. -Kaitlyn_

_Hi, Sheamus. Just wanna talk for a minute. Call me. -Kaitlyn_

_C'mon, big guy, don't leave me hangin! Lol -Kaitlyn_

_Dude, are you blowing me off? SO not cool, PLEASE call me -Kaitlyn_

_Are you mad at me? -Kaitlyn_

…Kaitlyn hadn't so much as gotten an email from Sheamus. And it was driving her crazy all week, as AJ could attest during their frequent calls and discussions in the last few days. And while AJ—mildly amused at how freaked out Kaitlyn was becoming—had suggested that maybe Sheamus was just being shy, it did nothing to soothe Kaitlyn's worries over the situation.

Having the grace to look ashamed, Sheamus scratched the back of his head. "Uh, yeah…that, uh…that was my fault. I'm sorry."

"No, no, uh…you've probably been really busy," Kaitlyn shrugged it off. "World Champ and all that, you've probably got a lot of responsibilities and stuff on your plate, so…"

"No, no, it's nothing like that, Kaitie, not at all," Sheamus said quickly. "I…I just…I'm sorry about kissin' you like that."

Kaitlyn's face fell slightly. "You are?" she asked in quiet disappointment.

"Uh, but not fer the kiss itself," he added somewhat awkwardly.

The blonde sighed in some relief. "Good."

Off his surprised look, she backpedaled. "Uh, because…as far as kisses go, it wasn't…terrible."

"Oh," he merely said as he took in those words. "Yeah, definitely…"

The awkward silence that stretched between them afterwards was driving them both crazy.

Sighing, Sheamus decided that he had enough. He wasn't some awkward teenager, like Punk had accused him of being days ago; he was the Great White, damn it! He might not be George Clooney or anything, but he certainly had enough gumption within him to man up.

"Look, Kaitlyn, I don't really know any right way how to do this, so I'm just gonna be blunt," he declared, the brogue in his lilting Irish voice strong, yet somehow gentle to Kaitlyn's ears. "I like ye. And if it's not terribly forward of me, I was thinkin' that maybe you and I could get a bite to eat after the show, just the two of us. I know this great spot that sells babyback ribs and makes a decent spot o' ale. Whaddaya say, lass? We'll talk, we'll dine, we'll do whatever ya want."

A pleased smile spread on Kaitlyn's lips. "Is this like…like a date?"

Realizing that there wasn't any going back after this, Sheamus nonetheless steeled himself, and went all in. "You know what? Yes. Yes, it is."

She smiled, looking down for a moment before she met those blue-green eyes that she could get lost in and stare at for days. "Okay."

His grin was from ear to ear. "Okay? Really?"

She shrugged, flashing perfect pearly white teeth. "Yeah, it'll be fun."

To say Sheamus was happy was an understatement. He felt like he had just thrown Jericho over the top rope and won the Royal Rumble all over again. He was ecstatic.

"Well, alright, then," he nodded, positively beaming.

She had to chuckle a little at his obvious enthusiasm; _God, he's so cute_…

"Cool," she smiled up at him. "So, I guess I'll wait for you after the show and we can…"

She trailed off as she spotted AJ skipping out of catering, an assured grin on her pixyish features.

"Omigod, AJ, are you okay? What happened?" Kaitlyn immediately asked.

AJ waved off her BFF's concern. "Better than fine, Kay. I'm feeling like I'm…10 feet tall."

Kaitlyn smiled as she got it. "Gave him a piece of your mind, did you?"

The petite Diva pumped her fist. "And it felt sooo _good_!"

Sheamus laughed at that, glad for AJ. "Glad ta hear it, Firecracker. Fer a second, I thought I was gonna have ta get all violent on that little troll."

AJ patted the big Irishman on the shoulder. "No worries, Big Guy. I think I gave Daniel a little food for thought…that he can choke on."

The three shared a laugh at that.

"Well, anyway, I've gotta go get ready for the match tonight, and you," she pointed at Sheamus, "probably ought to be doing the same, Sheamo."

Sheamus smiled confidently. "I'm the World Champion, lass. I'm always ready."

AJ laughed. "Cool." To Kaitlyn. "I'll see you after, okay?"

"Uh, about that," Kaitlyn started, rather cautiously. "I might not be able to make it tonight. Sheamus and I have some…plans."

Off AJ's questioning stare, Kaitlyn threw her one of those looks that best friends give each other—the kind where they can exchange everything without any words at all.

"Oh…OH!" AJ smiled, pleased that those two were finally getting somewhere. "Well, that's cool, Kay, then uh, I'll just catch you on the way out or…whatever."

"No prob," Kaitlyn chuckled, exchanging their Chickbusters handshake.

"I'll see you guys later," she bid them goodbye as she made her way back to Punk's locker room.

Shaking his head, Sheamus laughed at AJ's antics. "Sweet lass."

"That's our little AJ," Kaitlyn smiled, with a mock tear. "She's grown up so much…"

"They grow up so fast," Sheamus added with overdramatic sentiment.

Laughing, Kaitlyn allowed herself to lean on the bigger man's shoulder as she pretended to cry, with Sheamus offering her "comfort" as he snickered at their private joke.

As she pulled back, their eyes met, and their smiles slightly faded as the moment became more intimate than they had anticipated.

Pulling back, a blushing Kaitlyn gestured behind her. "Well, uh…I should go, and you've got a match to get ready for."

"Oh! Yeah, uh, there is that," Sheamus nodded, a little flustered. "But, uh…I'll see you after, yeah?"

She winked, playfully, as she put on her best Irish brogue. "Sure thing, 'fella.'"

And as she walked away, his eyes never leaving her frame until she turned the corner, the dazed, yet brilliant smile on Sheamus's face never left, as he turned and walked towards his the locker room, whistling a happy Irish tune.

But if he knew what was about to happen out there next, his mood would have been anything BUT jolly.

* * *

TBC…

* * *

Well, that's a wrap for now, folks! Check back to the next chapter when we find out just what happens in our Smackdown main event, when CM Punk, AJ and Sheamus face Chris Jericho, Dolph Ziggler and Vickie Guerrero, from Smackdown in Corpus Christi!

Remember to leave a review, like me on Facebook and be sure to check out "World Tour" by RonRon10 and "Keeping Them Apart" by PikaSixJoy, part of the "Core Four" series! Erin Go Brah, fellas!

**#TeamAJPunk4Life**

**- Jean-theGuardian**


	13. Part 11point5

A/N: My thoughts on last night's RAW: No comment. Still too angry for too many reasons. Thankfully, that's why fanfic exists. Screw WWE Creative, damn it! But at least here on FF dot Net, Punk/AJ LIVES! :)

Call this chapter 11.5! Read, Review, enjoy until the real next chapter! FYI, I understand a lot of you are upset, but **PLEASE don't just leave in ranting reviews about last night's RAW without telling me what you liked about the chapter****, or I'll have to erase it**. I dig the story, but I'm a writer, first and foremost; feedback on my writing is pretty important, so please remember that. Enjoy!

PS Whoever that idiot was who posted as "haha" and went on about hating AJ/Punk and where engagement rings go...don't ever leave a review on this story again. You're blocked. NOW enjoy!

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 11.5**

* * *

**Smackdown - Before the match**

**Punk's Locker Room**

* * *

_All Punk could see were stars after that last chokeslam from Big Show. _

_His back on fire and his consciousness fading in and out, he could barely make out the familiar sound of trumpets heralding the arrival of John Cena._

_Punk groaned in dismay; **not like this**, he thought. He had worked too long and too hard to keep this title around his waist and to prove to everyone that he deserved to be one of the company's biggest faces…all to lose it because of that damn briefcase. Worst of all…to Cena, Mr. Company Poster Boy. _

_But he wouldn't do that, right? Cena's been victimized by that briefcase more times than anyone else; he had built his smiley good guy rep on that Hustle, Loyalty and Respect crap that he had always touted; surely he wouldn't be a hypocrite and use it to cash in on him right now at his most vulnerable…_

_To his shock, Punk found he couldn't be more wrong, as Cena, flashing that stupid boyish grin of his, hoisted his aching body onto his shoulders and one Attitude Adjustment and a pin later…it was gone. His WWE Championship, all those months of hard work, the greatest stretch of success he had ever enjoyed his entire career, the message he had been sending to everyone around the world that anyone could rise to the top if they worked hard enough and if they were willing to pay the price…it was all gone._

_As he crawled back into the corner turnbuckle, his hands cradling his head in disbelief while Cena celebrated with the belt he stole from him, Punk couldn't imagine things possibly getting worse…_

… _and then "Ride of the Valkyries" began playing, and out came Daniel Bryan and to his side…AJ. Confused as all hell, Punk's heart dropped down into his stomach as he saw AJ's beautiful smile while she held up her left hand…_

…_a hand sporting a diamond engagement ring._

_None of this made any sense. AJ was his girlfriend, he….he loved her. And he knew she felt the same for him…but why was she standing up there by Daniel's side…with an engagement ring?_

"_AJ…what…what's going on?" he rasped out as they made their way into the ring, his pained eyes never leaving her. "What are you…?"_

"_Isn't it obvious, Punk?" Daniel smiled in satisfaction, holding AJ close to his side by her tiny waist, as Punk felt something inside him die. "Say hello to the future Mrs. Daniel Bryan! YES! YES! YES!"_

_Unable to comprehend what was happening, Punk shook his head as a forlorn sense of grief washed over him. "AJ?"_

_She only smirked at him, idly twirling the diamond ring on her finger. "Sorry, Punky…but Daniel turns me on."_

_As they engaged in a sloppy, wet kiss, Punk felt like he wanted to die right then and there, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces as the image of his sweet AJ letting Daniel's tongue explore her mouth seared into his retinas._

_His mouth went dry, his throat choked with grief, all the life sapped right out of him as he took in the sight of AJ smiling sweetly up at Daniel, while Cena, sporting _his_ WWE title, laughed at him along with Big Show as they congratulated the engaged couple…while he sat, shattered, in body and spirit, as he watched his title stolen from him by the very man that had inspired his pipebomb of one year ago, and the woman of his dreams in the arms of his bitterest rival._

_As if things couldn't get any worse…the familiar internet chiming came from around the ring. Seemingly out of nowhere, Hornswoggle showed up with a laptop, smiling glibly as he ran into the lap of John Laurinaitis, flanked by Eve and David Otunga._

"_Too bad about your luck, Punk," Laurinaitis smiled smugly. "Because in celebration of this momentous occasion, Daniel Bryan and AJ have asked for—and I have agreed—a live celebration wedding next week right here on Raw!" _

"_Oh, but Punk, I'm afraid I can't have you crashing the festivities, and since you're no longer the WWE Champion…well, all I can say is, best of luck in your future endeavors, Punk—because you're fired!"_

_Off their cruel laughter and the dismayed cries of the fans in the audience, Punk felt like he was stuck in some kind of terrible nightmare. This was absolutely the worst moment of his life, losing everything he had worked for, the woman he loved, and now the only thing he had ever wanted to do his entire life…_

_This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this can't be happening, the frantic thought ran through Punk's mind as he sat there, shell-shocked…_

"_Better luck next time, Punk!" laughed AJ. "Are you listening, Punk?"_

"_Punk!"_

"_Punk!"_

"Punk! Baby, wake up, it's almost time for our match!" came AJ's voice, as Punk felt a light touch shaking his shoulder.

"_**NO**_! AJ, I love you! You can't marry Daniel!" blurted Punk as he woke up in a frantic state.

Confused, he blearily stared up at a bewildered AJ, wearing her green plaid wrestling gear and his logo-emblazoned wrist bands.

Her pixyish face was scrunched in confusion. "_Marry_ _Daniel_? What are you talking about, Punk?"

His breathing choppy, he looked around—at her, at his locker room, at the WWE Championship with his name on it laying on his dresser.

Punk ran his hand through his slick back hair. "It…it was just a dream?"

"Yeah, you were sound asleep when I came back," AJ shrugged, as she sat down next to him on the bench, her tiny hand running his shoulder comfortingly, offering him more comfort than anything his eyes could see. "What happened, Phil? You never fall asleep before a match. Is everything okay?"

Still, he had to be sure. "AJ…babe…just tell me that you're not engaged to Daniel Bryan and getting married to him next week, that Cena didn't use that stupid Money In the Bank briefcase to take my WWE Championship, that I still have my job and that Hornswoggle isn't the anonymous RAW GM. Please…tell me I was just dreaming that."

A worried AJ cocked her head as she stared at him, placing her hand over his forehead. "Baby, are you okay? You sure you're feeling alright?"

Sighing in relief, he took her hand and kissed it, noting with pleasure and newfound appreciation, how AJ flashed that sweet smile of hers at him. "So, it was just a dream."

"Well, duh!" AJ shrugged, looking at him as if it were obvious. "I mean, c'mon, me marry _Daniel_? I'm a little crazy at times, sure, but even I'm not _that_ crazy. He's a jerk, you know that. And, c'mon, Hornswoggle as GM? Like that'd ever happen."

He sighed, hanging his head as he gladly rooted himself firmly back into reality. A reality where he was still WWE Champion, he was still the apple of AJ's eye and where he was still The Best in the World.

"I've gotta cut back on the Pepsi or something," Punk shook his head. "It's giving me weird hallucinations."

He looked to his right to see AJ smiling shyly at him. Her words were hesitant, but tinged with hope. "Did you…did you mean that?"

He frowned. "About the Pepsi?"

AJ rolled her eyes as she slapped his arm. "No, stupid. What you said when you woke up…when you said you, uh…you loved me."

His face went red as he recalled those words. He had been holding back saying them for some time, mostly because he was hoping that she would say them first.

"I said that, didn't I?" he muttered, sheepishly.

Off her shy nod, he hesitantly smiled as he took in her beauty. The way her dark hair perfectly framed those perfect, tiny features of her face, the way her perfect little nose would crinkle whenever she laughed, how her eyes sent waves of love and passion straight into his heart.

Her voice revealed that vulnerable heart of hers. "Did you mean it?"

Punk smiled as he took hold of her hands and squeezed them gently, reassuringly. "Every word, April. Every word."

Hearing her full name fall from his lips, AJ's eyes filled with wonder and amazement as her lips trembled, hearing the words that she had longed to hear from him for some time now; words that she knew to be true in her heart, but that she had patiently waited for him to voice. "Say it again."

Off her soft inflection in her voice, the way her eyes stared at him so adoringly, Punk felt something in his relax and just…let go. "I love you, AJ."

In an instant, she moved forward and her lips captured his in a tender, sweet kiss, her eyes moist with tears that had yet to fall. "I love you, too, baby."

Savoring the sweetness of her strawberry-flavored lips against his, he felt a wave of need coming over him as he pressed her closer to him, his hands wandering all over her soft, slender frame. Her tiny moan into his mouth officially drove him over the edge as he lifted her off the ground and pressed her against the lockers, his lips hovering over her neck and his hands frantically working the clasp of her green plaid wrestling top.

"Punk," she gasped. "We…have…a…match…in…minutes."

He smiled against her collarbone. "Call it my way of…warming up."

Laughing as she began to relent to her own desire for him, she gripped the back of his head against her body. "You're…crazy."

He broke off and met her eyes, smiling as he muttered one last thing before their lips met again and they gave in to the inevitable surge of want, need and love between them: "Yeah…crazy about you, babe."

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

Next chapter : Punk, Sheamus and AJ vs Chris Jericho, Dolph Ziggler and Vickie Guerrero. Who Wins? What happens? Wait and see!

(FYI, I truly wish last night was all a bad dream, but, hey, that's why fanfic exists, right? ) Show your love, members of the TeamAJPunk nation! Reviews! Hugs! Burning effigies of Goat Face! lol

Gtg, like me on Facebook!

#**TeamPunkAJ4Ever**

**#IHateGoatFace**

**#WWECreativeSucks**,

**-Jean-theGuardian**


	14. Part 12

The following chapter is dedicated to DeadliestPriestess, as I know the wait has been painful for you, my dear. Thanks for sticking around and prodding me every week or so, lol.

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 12 **

* * *

**Smackdown - After the Show**

**Backstage**

**Now**

* * *

Angrily shrugging off doctors trying to check on his own condition, Punk stared at the makeshift medical facility's door, tense and worried as he and the others awaited word on Sheamus's condition.

A panicked Kaitlyn was freaking out, asking the EMTs that entered in and out of the room every few minutes for an update on Sheamus's condition, only to be told minimal information was available. The moment that the bloodied Sheamus was helped through the back by Punk, AJ and several officials, a frantic Kaitlyn was the first one by his side, hurriedly asking him if he was okay. The sight of the blood pouring freely from the wound in his head, crimson stains standing in stark contrast to his lucid skin, while a random slur of dazed words tumbled incoherently out of his mouth, shocked her into near-hysterics.

The last guy who fed her the "We're doing everything we can, miss, but you have to let us work" line found himself on the receiving end of a brutal tongue-lashing by an upset Kaitlyn—worried sick after she saw what happened to Sheamus after the match—and was only spared by Layla and Kofi both pulling her aside and attempting to calm her down.

As she assured Kaitlyn that Sheamus would be okay, Layla found herself wishing that John Cena was here; he always had a way of calming her, of knowing what to say in these kinds of situations. Instead, she gratefully settled for Kofi's firm grip on her shoulders, as she awaited word on their injured friend.

AJ offered her boyfriend comfort as she rested her palms on Punk's stressed shoulders while he sat in a chair gripping her hand in anxiousness, despite a mess of emotions and thoughts in her own head; thoughts that volleyed between worrying about one of her closest friends in Sheamus…and wondering about the rest of what happened just a half-hour ago that had her mind spinning…

* * *

**The match - earlier**

* * *

_Punk smiled grimly to himself as he felt his boot connect into the side of Ziggler's head midway through the match, creating much needed separation between them as both grapplers collapsed to the floor. _

_The match had been fast paced and intense; though Jericho and Ziggler didn't take long before using underhanded tactics like distracting the referee to double team either Punk or Sheamus while the coast was clear, the two champions had battled back to make things interesting in the match, keeping their two blonde foes at bay._

_Despite his earlier reservations, the match had going pretty well thus far. To his pride, AJ had given Vickie more than she could handle earlier in the match, pouncing on the so-called Cougar with furious fists and feet, the older woman finding her self overmatched by the better trained and more experienced AJ. _

_Punk tagged in Sheamus and the Irish powerhouse exploded all over the ring, his deceptively quick and powerful 6-foot-6, 275-pound frame creating all manner of havoc in the ring with a series of clotheslines, boots, shoulder blocks and fists that tore up Ziggler and Jericho. _

_After AJ caught Vickie distracting the referee, the brunette spitfire—not willing to brook any of that—tackled Vickie and began slapping and pounding away at the screeching manager, and all hell broke loose from there. Jericho had attempted to sneak in and blindside Sheamus—too busy hammering away on Ziggler—but Punk had pounced on him, the two bitter rivals spilling to the outside as they battled._

_With pleasure, Punk was teeing off on Jericho with a concussive series of fists to the Canadian ring legend's head, when suddenly, he felt a sharp pain cracking him in the head from behind. That was on account of Drew McIntyre—still bitter after that bar room brawl earlier in the week—coming out of nowhere and blindsiding him. _

_Stunned, Punk fell to the floor, clutching his skull while Drew continued a series of quick hard stomps into his ribs and head. And the Scottish brawler held nothing back in his assault; he had come to the conclusion that if he wanted to make a name for himself and get back the momentum behind his career that he lost two years ago, he had to start at the top, and the WWE Champion was the perfect place to begin._

_As Jericho joined in on Drew's fun— attacking Punk with a few hard stomps of his own—a wounded Punk realized that he couldn't fight both men off at the same time in this current predicament. They had him at a disadvantage and Punk couldn't even get to his feet to defend himself._

_Fortunately, he didn't have to wait much longer, as Sheamus, spotting the two men jumping his friend, clotheslined Ziggler over the top rope before leaping outside to land a solid punch to the side of Drew's face before trading blows with Jericho, who crumbled under the Irishman's furious onslaught. At that point, Ziggler had recovered and jumped the Great White from behind, and it looked like the numbers game was about to catch up to Sheamus…_

…_until Punk, the needed break giving him new life, threw Ziggler aside and leapt onto Drew in a Lou Thesz Press, hammering away at the former "Chosen One" with aggression and anger. Nobody jumped Punk from behind and didn't end up with some major bruising in the morning. _

_Amid the chaos, neither Punk nor Sheamus saw Jericho slip to the side, where he grabbed a chair…and slide back into the ring, where AJ, oblivious to the carnage on the outside, was still pounding away on Vickie. _

_However, AJ somehow sensed Jericho's presence and looked up to see the cruel smile on the blonde Canadian's face as he clutched the steel chair firmly in his grip, slowly advancing towards her. Stumbling off Vickie in fright, AJ tried to run out of the ring, only for Jericho to shadow her, moving to the ropes as quickly as she did. She tried again to run to the other side,, but Jericho was right there, cutting off her exit. _

_Panic began to set in as AJ found herself being backed into a corner turnbuckle. She was strong for her petite size, she knew that, but against a man who had a good 8 inch height advantage and an extra 120 pounds on her, there wasn't much she could do. And she knew Jericho's reputation, had seen it herself while growing up a wrestling fan—she knew that he had no problems before attacking women. Stephanie Mcmahon, Lita, Trish Stratus, Stacy Keibler, even Shawn Michaels's wife, Rebecca; all of them were brutally assaulted by Jericho. _

_Now, those malicious blue eyes of his were locked in on her like a cat cornering a field mouse. And despite the feminist part of her protesting, right now, a terrified AJ really, really wished Punk was here._

"_Not so brave now, are you, sweet cheeks?" Jericho taunted her menacingly as he inched closer to her, steel chair raised overhead as she held her hands protectively in front of her face. "Did you really think I was gonna let you get away with hitting me in the face with a serving tray at that club? Huh? Where's your boyfriend to protect you now? You're going to learn your place around me! Do you understand what I'm saying to you right-OOOF!"_

_The dull thud-like sound of boot meeting skull resonated from behind Jericho as he crumpled to the ground after a solid kick connected with the back of his head, cold cocking him. The flicker of relief she felt as Jericho's body hit the ground morphed abruptly into surprise when her savior came into view. For it was not Punk she saw standing triumphantly over Jericho's prone form…_

…_but that of Daniel Bryan._

_He stared down at his championship rival's fallen body for a moment, a satisfied smirk on his face, before he turned his sights on AJ. To her further shock, a look of what appeared to be concern appeared on his face. _

"_Are you okay?" he asked in what AJ registered to sound like…sincerity? "He didn't hurt you, did he?"_

_But his presence did nothing to calm AJ. In fact, his proximity to her in this environment only served to panic her even further. As bad as Jericho was…Daniel was far, far worse. That, she knew from experience. And now, here she was, backed into a corner, with Daniel standing opposite from her, completely and totally at the mercy of whatever it was that he intended to do…_

_Thankfully, she didn't have to wait and see just what was on Daniel's mind, as Punk, already having dispatched Drew with a hard roundhouse kick to the head outside, bolted into the ring and gave Daniel a rough shove away from AJ, creating needed space between them as he put his body squarely between his girlfriend and her ex-._

"_What the fuck do you think you're doing out here?" snapped a scowling Punk, fists balled into punching formation. "You stay the fuck away from her, you understand me?"_

_Punk hadn't seen Jericho menacing AJ before…not that it would have mattered. In his mind, when it came to AJ, Daniel was a far bigger threat than Jericho could be, for a multitude of reasons that AJ had confided in him._

_It looked as if the two men were about to trade blows when Sheamus, having taken care of Ziggler outside, slid into the ring and backed Punk up. The Irishman knew Punk could handle himself, but he figured an extra hand wouldn't hurt. _

"_Run along, now, Frodo," Sheamus smiled, though the undertone of it was more intimidating than friendly. "We already reached the hero quota 'round this main event. I doubt you'd make the height limit fer it, anyway, fella."_

_While placing his hands up defensively, muttering, "Okay, okay," Daniel had to fight to keep from smirking. It was just the moment he was waiting for. _

_Not one moment later, as Daniel pretended to inch towards the ropes, he took two steps in front of the men…and brought his right hand had across Sheamus's face in a hard slap. _

_As Punk and AJ stared in shock, the Great White's stunned pale face literally turned red as a look of pure and utter rage twisted his ruggedly handsome Irish features. _

"_Oh, damn," muttered Punk, knowing Sheamus well enough to know what was about to happen next. _

_Surely enough, the World Heavyweight Champion lunged for Bryan, but the smaller man was just a step two quick as he ducked out of Sheamus's grasp and under the ropes, ducking under and bolting back up the ramp way. But Sheamus was in hot pursuit, snarling as he sniffed at the heels of the former World Champion. _

_Just as Punk, staring after them, was about to turn to AJ and check on her, he found himself ducking under an attempted clothesline from Drew, now back on his feet, and trading blows with him while AJ ducked out of the ring to get out of Punk's way. _

_Neither of them turned back to the ramp where they would have seen Daniel run through the backstage curtain, with Sheamus closing in fast…_

…_only to be caught full in the face with a steel chair shot that sent him staggering to the ground, seeing stars and split open at the forehead because of the brute force of that chair..._

…_wielded by a sneering Alberto Del Rio. _

_From there, the Mexican Aristocrat, Ricardo by his side, rained down a series of chair shots all over Sheamus's body, catching him in the ribs, shoulders and face. The Irish grappler winced and cried out in pain with each shot, unable to defend himself as Del Rio doled out the punishment._

"_This is where you belong, Sheamus—under my feet like the peasant that you are!" Del Rio taunted him,, delivering another chair shot to Sheamus's sore back. "_**I**_ am the real World Heavyweight Champion, not you, perro asqueroso! ME!"_

_Gritting his teeth as he winced through the pain, Sheamus managed to hiss out defiantly, "Yeah…real champion like…'Berti…sneak attacking with…a chair…yer as…yellow as…yer girly tights…"_

_A stiff kick to the head from Del Rio was his reward, making him see stars. But as Ricardo dragged him to his feet for more punishment, Sheamus's Irish fighting spirit kicked in, tossing Ricardo aside and trading blows with Del Rio, hammering the Mexican submission guru with stiff, powerful blows—despite the blood pouring into his eyes and down his face—that had Del Rio reeling. _

_But Ricardo jumped on leg, providing enough of a distraction for Del Rio to land a solid roundhouse kick to Sheamus's head, knocking him for a loop as he slid off the stage. Del Rio grabbed hold of his arm, however…_

…_and twisted it into his patented Cross Armbreaker, using the stage for leverage. Feeling the tendons and ligaments inside his arm bend and twist unnaturally, Sheamus howled in pain, unable to counter and free himself as Del Rio tugged and pulled with all his might._

_However, he didn't have much longer to continue his torture of Sheamus's wounded arm as he spied Punk—who knocked out Drew with a GTS only moments before when a frantic AJ pointed to the stage where Sheamus laid in pain— charge up the ramp with a steel chair in hand, swinging wildly but missing Del Rio by inches, driving Del Rio and Ricardo away to the back. _

_But the damage was already done, Punk realized. As he and AJ checked on their injured friend, the scene soon crawling with backstage personnel and EMTs, Punk spied John Laurinaitis on his scooter in the background, flashing that phony smile of his as Eve and Otunga smirked alongside him._

_Scowling poisonously at them—though AJ was far too worried about Sheamus to pay them any mind as she frantically tended to her Irish friend—Punk realized that this round may have just gone to them…_

* * *

Punk's tense shoulders shifting beneath her grasp caught her attention as she snapped out of her flashback.

"Hey," she prodded softly. "You okay? You haven't said a word since we got back here."

Rubbing his face in frustration, Punk looked away. "I should've seen that coming. I knew something was wrong as soon as Daniel showed his ugly face out there, but I got so caught up in fighting off Drew that I didn't see—"

"Punk, don't," she said gently. "Nobody's blaming you for this. It's not your fault about what happened. That was Del Rio's fault."

"I was sloppy, AJ," Punk shook his head, taking no solace in her comforting words. "Sheamus had my back when I needed it tonight, and when the tables were switched and he needed my help, I didn't come through."

"I seem to remember you swinging the hell out of a steel chair that drove that skeevy Del Rio asshole away that says otherwise," she offered, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "It wasn't your fault, baby. People get hurt in our line of work sometimes. You know that, and so does Sheamo."

He reached up and gently squeezed one of her soft hands, trying to take comfort in her presence, in her scent and understanding words. Trying not to think about how his friend's face was a crimson mask of blood, or how he clutched his arm so tenderly to him, as if something inside was broken. Trying not to focus on how he should have chased after Daniel himself instead of going punch-for-punch with Drew so that…

_Wait a minute, _Punk scowled as flashed back to Daniel popping up out of nowhere. By this time, AJ had managed to tell him about Jericho's near-attack, and Daniel's "save." But why? He and Daniel hadn't really crossed paths since Punk beat him at Over the Limit. Was he somehow in on what happened to Sheamus? And why set up Sheamus at all? Why not go after Punk? It was the WWE Title that the "Yes Man" had been craving these days, so why go after a guy that Punk knew Daniel had no chance of beating one-on-one? And more importantly…why bother to save AJ? The same woman that his old buddy had dumped and humiliated publicly time after time before Punk got together with her? Who had nothing but bad things to say about Daniel as of late?

_What the hell is he up to? _Punk wondered, as he debated the possible reasoning behind his ex-friend's cryptic actions tonight.

He didn't have long to muse on that, as one of the trainers came out of the training room.

"How is he?" a worried Kaitlyn was the first to speak, wringing her hands nervously.

The trainer smiled. "Don't worry. As far as we can tell, there isn't any immediate evidence of any breaks or tears, and he's not showing any symptoms as such. But he'd still be better off going for an MRI and an X-Ray tomorrow, just to make sure."

"So, he's going to be okay?" AJ asked, hopeful.

"As far as we can tell, yes," the male trainer confirmed.

A collective sigh of relief came from the group of friends, AJ squeezing Punk's hand reassuringly, while Layla rubbed small circles on Kaitlyn's back, the two-toned blonde closing her eyes, a little calmer now.

"Can we see him now?" Punk asked.

"We're just stitching him up right now," the trainer replied. "Give us a minute or two to get him cleaned up, and you can come in. But it might be good if he has someone to help him get back to his hotel room."

"I'll do it," Kaitlyn piped up immediately. Blushing as she saw all the stares directed her way, she tried to shrug it off. "Uh…I mean, I'm not doing anything tonight anyway, and…we're in the same hotel, so…yeah."

"Fair enough," the trainer simply shrugged. "I'll be out in a minute to let you know when you can come in." With that, he disappeared back into the small room to check on Sheamus.

"You sure about taking care of the big man yourself, Kaitie?" Kofi asked, concerned.

The Houston blonde-brunette nodded. "I think I'd feel better if I did."

At that moment, a tall, muscular presence slowly encroached on the circle of worried friends.

"Yo, guys," came the low, mellow tone of John Cena as he greeted them.

None of the group saw how Layla's brown eyes brightened momentarily when they met John's piercing blue-eyed gaze, nor the way how John's eyes lingered for a moment on Layla before he addressed Punk.

"Saw what happened," John explained, his tone somewhat apologetic. "Just wanted to check if Sheamo's doin' alright."

To say Punk was surprised to see Cena there was an understatement. The WWE Champion and the Massachusetts-born megastar hadn't seen eye-to-eye over many things in recent years, especially the last year; they weren't close, never had been. So to see him, of all people, here right now was quite strange.

Punk folded his arms as he regarded Cena skeptically. "I wasn't aware that you and the Big Guy were all buddy-buddy, given the history between you two."

"He's fine, John," AJ cut in, not wanting there to be an unnecessary fight between the two men after all of the carnage tonight. "They're gonna let us see him pretty soon…thanks for asking."

Cena nodded, tipping his cap towards the tiny Diva, slightly grateful. "No prob. Sheamus and I have our history, true, but I've found that the guy's not so bad when you give him a chance." He looked at Punk with a raised eyebrow. "Funny how things work out with people like that, sometimes."

Punk merely snorted, which made AJ elbow him to keep him at least halfway-behaved. She didn't really know John outside the ring, but from what she saw of the guy, he didn't seem so bad. In fact, he seemed like a pretty nice guy. Honestly, she didn't have a clue as to why Punk still had such distaste for him, even after coming out on the better end of their feud last year that shook the company to its core and made Punk a bonafide megastar in the business.

Kofi, who had always liked Cena, shook John's hand. "Thanks for checking up, John. I'm sure Sheamus will appreciate it."

"Uh, would you like to…come in and say 'hi?'" Kaitlyn, who was something of a fan of his, offered. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind the company."

Off those words, Layla looked like she wanted to say something, but kept quiet. She knew how suspicious it would be to invite John in herself. But as her eyes and his met, he read the silent, hopeful plea in her eyes all too easily.

To her disappointment, he shook his head. After catching Punk roll his eyes, the Cenation Leader realized that his presence would only serve as an awkward distraction, and he didn't think any wounded wrestler would be in the mood for that while being mended.

"Sorry, but I've got somewhere I've gotta be right now," John politely declined, looking at Layla more than anyone else. "Personal stuff. But…tell Sheamus that I hope he heals alright."

Sighing in some annoyance, Punk managed to give Cena a nod at AJ's silent urging. "Thanks, Cena," he said, almost through his teeth. "That's…very nice of you."

John merely chuckled. "I know it probably killed you to say that."

"Many times over," Punk agreed, earning another elbow from AJ. "But, still…thanks."

"Cool," he shrugged, his eyes lingering on Layla for a brief moment before he said his goodbyes. "See ya later."

And again, no one saw how Layla's eyes fell briefly as she watched John round the corner and disappear.

"Well, that was…nice of him, I've gotta say," AJ noted, impressed.

"Yes. Yes, it was," Layla agreed, fighting to keep down a smile.

"Well, Cena's cool when you get to know him. Real nice guy," Kofi shrugged.

Punk felt another snort leave his nose. "Ever the Boy Scout," he replied, dismissively.

This time, Layla beat AJ to the punch, elbowing him in the side. "Ow! What, what'd I do?"

As Layla rolled her eyes at him, AJ merely shook her head. She loved Punk to death, but he could be a real jerk sometimes.

The trainer popped out at that moment. "He's all cleaned up. You can go see him now."

That was all Kaitlyn needed to hear, darting into the room at quick speed to check on the wounded Great White. As the others shuffled in, Punk abruptly wondered aloud, "Seriously, what'd I do?"

AJ only smiled and rolled her eyes. Being in love with a jerk was hard work…

* * *

TBC…

* * *

**Next: Hearts grow closer, enemies grow bolder, Number 1 contenders are named and Punk's quest to keep his WWE Championship grows more treacherous thanks to an offer that NO one can refuse…**

* * *

Special thanks to all that reviewed. (Well, unless they're that small faction of anonymous people that was popping up every now and then to annoy me, but whatever.) The next chap should be up soon! And please read "Keeping Them Apart" by PikaSixJoy and "World Tour" byRonRon10, part of the "Core 4" Series, of which this story is part of. (Core 4 is a mystery, Pulling strings that no one sees, God makes a fool of history…)

Sorry for the long wait, guys, but well, I've been doing some real life stuff. Bills and rent don't pay for themselves. I'll try to find some time to update every now and then. Oh, and DemonicXaliv, don't fret, I'm putting you into this story next chapter for winning my contest last month, promise!

In the meantime, I would highly recommend that you guys read these Punk/AJ fics:

End of Heartache, by MyChaosTheory

Fix You, by sweetbellesammy

Caught You Like a Cold, by AnRevival

Not Weak, Just Stronger, by RunninOnCrazy

Bleeding Hearts, by Trisskins

(no offense to anyone I left out, you all rock out there in TeamPunkAJ Nation!)

By the way, people, what are your Top 5 Punk/AJ moments? Thought it'd be a fair question given everything that's happened between them of late. More on the way, soon, and if you're not down with that…we've got two words for ya!...(Please review!) lol And like me on Facebook (Jean-theGuardian)! Even fanfic authors need friends on the BookFace! ;)

**#TeamPunkAJ4Life**

**#KaitmusFTW**

**#BringBackAW**

**#IDigCrazyGMs**

Later!

-Jean-theGuardian


	15. Part 13

I had a change of heart, and decided to do another chapter from the villains' POV (I've always wanted to do this!) Enjoy! Review!

**Hard To Handle**

**Part 13**

* * *

**Smackdown- After the Show**

**Backstage - John Laurinaitis's office **

**Later**

* * *

"Did you see that, Mr. Laurinaitis?" Del Rio boasted gleefully in his Spanish accent to the People Power regime, Daniel Bryan groaning as he waited patiently in the background for the arrogant Mexican Aristocrat to finish.

"Did you see how I humbled and humiliated _ese naco invalido_ (useless bum) Sheamus? I busted him open! I made him bleed! And that means that I should be the Number 1 contender for the World Heavyweight Championship!"

Laurinaitis gave a simple nod. "Alberto, I agree with you one hundred percent…but I was also approached by Vickie Guerrero backstage an hour ago, and she did make a compelling case for Dolph Ziggler, as well, and he had a very good showing against Sheamus tonight to strengthen his case."

The sight of the smile on Del Rio's face faltering made Daniel quietly chuckle to himself as Laurinaitis continued. "Therefore, it is my decision, which I will announce via Twitter and tomorrow, that at No Way Out, Sheamus will defend the World Heavyweight Championship against both you, Alberto Del Rio…and Dolph Ziggler—"

"_**What**_?" an outraged Del Rio barked.

"…in a Triple Threat match," Laurinaitis continued, unfazed.

"This is ridiculous!" Del Rio protested, spitting out a stream of angry Spanish curses. "_I_ should be the one, the only number one contender, not _ese_ _gringo rubio grazoso_ (blonde white greasy) Dolph Ziggler! I'm a former two-time WWE Champion! The blood of greatness runs in my veins, and this brand, this company needs me as the World Heavyweight Cha—"

"Now, now, Alberto," Laurinaitis replied, smoothly. "Just be thankful that I'm giving you the opportunity to compete for the World Heavyweight Championship so soon after your recent reculper, uh, recuperation. I think I'm being pretty generous."

However, the real reasoning behind Laurinaitis's match-making had nothing to do with generosity. He had never liked Sheamus, and that dislike had only intensified in recent months since the Irish-born grappler had won the world title; particularly since Sheamus had shoved him out of the way weeks ago while making a save for John Cena. The knowledge that Sheamus was friends with that no-good CM Punk weren't giving him any pluses on Laurinaitis's list, either.

No, in the longtime WWE Executive's eyes, Smackdown needed a new World Champion ASAP, one that wasn't a certain red-haired, short-tempered hooligan.

"This isn't right," Alberto complained. "It should be me versus Sheamus, one-on-one just like a championship match should take place—"

"Wait just a second, Alberto," Daniel stepped in, picking his moment. "I think Mr. Laurinaitis was more than fair in making this match. I mean, let's face it, you haven't seen a heck of a lot of action since you came back from injury, and what guarantee is there that you could even beat Sheamus? Mr. Laurinaitis, you made a great, no, an excellent call, sir."

"Stay out of this, you little _raton_ (rat), " Del Rio snapped at Daniel, who only smirked in response.

"Excuse me!" Eve cut in, her eyes trained on Del Rio. "Mr. Laurinaitis just granted you a title shot at the next pay-per-view, and you're being anything but gracious, Alberto. The way I see it, you should smile, thank him for the match, and get out of his office…_now_."

Before Del Rio could lash out at Eve, Laurinaitis stepped in. "Alberto, Eve has a point. You know I don't like rude people, and I have a private meeting with Daniel at the moment, so if you have nothing else to say, I suggest you take your leave. You have a house show you're scheduled for tomorrow, and I'm sure you have to hit the road."

Scowling in fury, Del Rio left the office in a huff, leaving Daniel with a pleased smile on his face. With Alberto and Sheamus at each other's throats, tossing Ziggler into that miz, he was confident that should provide enough of a distraction for that pasty oaf to keep him occupied while he worked on his real goal…getting to Punk's title and AJ.

Now, on to just one more little twist to put the screws to Punk…

"Okay, Daniel, you requested this meeting, so what is it that you have to say?" Laurinaitis asked.

"Have you made your decision yet about the Number One contender spot for the WWE Championship?" Daniel asked. "Because after laying out Jericho out there, and luring Sheamus into that trap, I think I've proven myself as the only one with the skill and the cunning necessary to be the WWE Champion. I'm asking, no, pleading with you to do the right thing. Choose me to face Punk at No Way Out for the WWE Title, and I guarantee you that I'll get the job done."

Laurinaitis replied, "Well, you've made a very compelling case thus far, Daniel. And your win tonight against Santino Marella was very impressive. But, frankly, I still have reservations. You lost last month at Over the Limit to Punk, and Jericho has still been excellent on a consistent basis—"

"I laid Jericho out tonight!" Daniel protested. "And as for Over the Limit, that was a fluke! I made CM Punk tap out, the cameras saw it, the whole world saw it. If I only had one more second before my shoulders were on the mat for the three-count, I would be WWE Champion right now!"

"But you didn't, Daniel," Laurinaitis replied. "That's why Punk's the champion and you're not. I would love to see you as WWE Champion, but I'm afraid you're going to have to earn it the hard way. Which is why I've decided, that at No Way Out, Punk is going to defend the WWE Championship against you…and Chris Jericho…in a Triple Threat Match!"

"Excellent choice, Mr. Laurinaitis," Otunga praised him shamelessly.

"Brilliant, sir, as always," Eve added, even though she was baffled as to why Laurinaitis would book two triple threat title matches in one night. That hardly seemed like original thinking at all.

"Another triple threat?" Daniel groaned, trying to rein in his temper. "Mr. Laurinaitis, don't you think that's a little…repetitive?"

Laurinaitis paused, mulling it over. "Hmm, good point…then I guess we'll make it a no disqualification Triple Threat match! A winner and champion will be guaranteed!"

Daniel resisted the urge to palm his own face. This would have been so much easier with a smarter GM. Still, the Washington native figured, he could turn this in his favor.

"I get it," he said in mock realization. "This is all about getting to Punk, isn't it? It's okay, sir, you can tell me…you don't really like CM Punk, do you?"

Laurinaitis rolled his eyes at the mention of Punk's name. "Well, between you and us…no. No, I don't. Though I've been trying my best to be professional about it."

Now it was Daniel's turn to roll his eyes (though he looked away before doing it). Laurinaitis's dislike of Punk was a pretty well known fact around the company.

"Well, if that's what this is all about, I have a proposition that you might find…interesting," Daniel grinned wickedly.

Eve had to admit a few moments later that Daniel was right. His proposal was…interesting. But to pull it off would require quite a bit of risk. Dangerous risk.

"Where on earth are you going to get that kind of money?" Laurinaitis asked in confusion. "I know you don't have enough of that yourself yet."

"No…but you do," Daniel smirked.

"Excuse me?" an unamused Laurinaitis replied.

"Well, not you, per say," Daniel elaborated. "But I know that you probably have access to WWE's payroll. It's a multi-million dollar company, nearly a billion dollar company; it'll hardly miss a mere $100,000."

"Daniel, what you're asking me to do is not only unethical…it's illegal," Laurinaitis replied cautiously. "If I do what you're suggesting that I do, and it gets back to me, then not only would I lose my job, but I could be facing criminal charges."

"Not necessarily," Eve chimed in, drawing everyone's attention. "I took the liberty of browsing through WWE's payroll accounts, sir. It might take a little reshuffling, but there might be a way to slide this past the accountants in order to get that $100,000 free for use."

Laurinaitis looked to his legal counsel. "David?"

"It might be risky, sir…but Eve is good with numbers," Otunga relented. "And let's face it…offer up the right amount of money, and there's nothing that people won't do."

Laurinaitis mulled it over for a moment. True, Daniel's proposal had a lot of risk, particularly for Laurinaitis himself; embezzling company funding to target the well-being of one of the company's top draws was about as high stakes as he could get. But conceivably, it could work; after all, he had seen Hunter himself employ a similar strategy against Goldberg years ago, to great success. And if it meant that he could finally rid himself of CM Punk as WWE Champion—and maybe even end that rabble rousing loose cannon's career—it was well worth the risk.

At last, he nodded. "I'll have Eve get started on the plans. You'll have what you're asking for by Monday. But I can't be connected to this in any way. This is all on you, Daniel. If you fail, it's your ass, not mine. But if you succeed…well, I might even make a push to make _you_ the face of the company."

The thought made Daniel smile in giddy anticipation; he was one step closer to having it all. Phase two of his master plan was complete. "Believe me, Mr. Laurinaitis, this is going to be the best decision you've ever made."

It was all falling into place now. Come Monday night, Daniel would be ready to turn his ex-pal Punk and his old flame AJ's little Cinderella dream into a nightmare…and when it was all said and done, AJ would be on her knees begging him to step in and end it all.

* * *

**Backstage - Vickie Guerrero's Dressing Room**

**The same time**

* * *

"Are you listening to me, Dolph?" trilled Vickie as her voice snapped Dolph out of his thoughts. "After getting you a World Heavyweight Championship match against Sheamus at No Way out, I would think that the least you could do is pay attention to me!"

Absently, Dolph managed to mutter, "Oh, yeah, hear you loud and clear, Vick."

Earlier in the night, he had come in with the focus of nothing but getting another shot at the World Heavyweight Championship. And with No Way Out just days away, he knew that Vickie had scored a coup in landing him a shot against Sheamus.

Ever since he dropped the dead weight that was Jack Swagger as his tag partner, Ziggler had been more motivated than ever to silence his critics mocking him about his 15 minute reign as World Champion that Edge ended last year with one thunderous Spear in one of the Rated R Superstar's final matches.

"Fluke," they called him. "One Hit Wonder," they mocked him. "Flash in the Pan," they ridiculed him. That's why he had his theme music reworded. He would show them who was a flash in the pan; he'd show them all. He'd show the world just who Dolph Ziggler really was and what he could really do…

And he should have had tunnel vision by now, once again having the opportunity to take one of the richest prizes in the business, a title with lineage dating back to greats like Ric Flair, Macho Man Randy Savage and Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat, and men he idolized once like Shawn Michaels, Sting, Ravishing Rick Rude, Triple H, Goldberg and the Undertaker. He should have been focused on the fact that the title he briefly wore once last year, as sweet as it was fleeting, was only a few days and a Zig Zag away from being his once again, for real this time.

Except…except he couldn't stop thinking about a certain tanned, toned and very pretty blonde-brunette he saw hanging by gorilla with her friends earlier tonight.

Just before the match, he had spied Kaitlyn talking with Sheamus, their body language lending suggestion to the idea that they were flirting. It surprised Dolph just how much that had bothered him…after all, he was the one who dumped her.

By now, everyone knew the backstory. Dolph, newly contracted to and dating Vickie Guerrero, had met Kaitlyn on NXT. The Houston-born Diva-in-Training was supposed to be mentored by Vickie, yet Vickie had seen fit to constantly berate and harass her at every turn. Which Dolph found ridiculous, as she was doing a pretty good job by herself.

To his surprise, Kaitlyn rebelled against Vickie's tutoring, and the fan swell she received was enough to push her to win NXT handily and secure a WWE talent contract. Along the way, he had become…powerfully attracted to Kaitlyn. Her strength, her confidence and her natural beauty were alluring and inviting to him—especially given Vickie's smothering tendencies. She returned his affections, and before long, the two were making out in closets and crates, in empty locker rooms and dark corners backstage. Sneaking away for late night trysts under fake names in hotels, under disguise, so as to avoid people talking and word getting back to Vickie.

It was one of the most thrilling and exciting relationships with a woman that Dolph had ever had—and he was pretty experienced. The secrecy, the danger, the way that Kaitlyn's lips tasted of strawberries and the lemon scent that her hair always seemed to have, the way she would throw her head back and form that 'O' with her mouth whenever she reached the peak of passion…it was addictive, and he loved every moment of it.

But eventually, Kaitlyn got tired of sneaking around and demanded that he make a commitment. She wanted him to choose—Vickie or her. He didn't even hesitate…he chose Vickie. Certainly not because of beauty, conversation, her penchant for fun or her prowess in bed, those Kaitlyn had in the bag over just about any chick Dolph was ever with. It all came down to one thing—power. Vickie was the Assistant GM of Smackdown at the time, and even without that, she had a mind for the business that could put Dolph in the mix for title shots and fame. She was his ticket to stardom; Kaitlyn was not.

For a self-professed jerk, even his heart was moved when he remembered Kaitlyn's heartbroken reaction, the tears of pain and the look of rejection on her face as he broke her heart. Dolph wished for a long while that there was some other way, some way to keep the good thing he had going with her and be a star at the same time, but he knew there was not. He knew full well that he had to make those big moves now while he was young and primed, not later when his fountain of youth had run dry and he'd transition from promising talent into worse than a 'has-been'…being a 'never-was.'

He thought he had made the right decision. Especially after being transferred to Raw later last year, so he wouldn't even have to look at Kaitlyn. It was all about being the Showoff, the Reflection of Perfection, the next Next Big Thing once again.

But after seeing Kaitlyn more and more as of late thanks to this brand-mixing Supershows deal, that old attraction had begun to rear its head again. And it had only increased in the last few weeks after seeing that great white ghost Sheamus and Kaitlyn spending so much time together backstage. The way she would laugh at his lame jokes, the way that Irish sap's face seemed to soften whenever he hung around her, the way she would idly play with one of his massive fingers whenever he'd place his hand down on some surface…it was enough to make him puke.

Kaitlyn was a smoking hot babe, and she was way out of that oversized Ronald McDonald-looking goofball's league. The way he looked, he should be trying to put the moves on the Wendy's girl, not someone as babe-alicious as Kaitlyn. Why on earth would she be attracted to that loser, anyway? It had to be because of the title. There wasn't any other explanation for it; the belt was a chick magnet, it was the reason why losers like Miz got girls like Maryse, or why shrimps like Daniel Bryan got hotties (however annoying they might be) like AJ.

That only fueled his motivation to be World Champion even further, even as he tuned in and out of Vickie's pointless monologue about how that crazy AJ messed up her hair and left bruises on her, and how the brunette Geek Goddess needed to be locked away at a mental hospital.

He'd been planning on dumping Vickie as his manager for a while, anyway; her act had been wearing thin on him, and by now, he was sure that the higher ups had taken notice of his talent. All he would have to do is beat Sheamus in eight days—and Dolph bet his pink and blue shirt that he could run circles around that muscle-headed, mayonnaise-toned moron in his sleep—and he'd be World Champion once again. Then he could dump Vickie on her ass, and he'd have sweet, sexy Kaitlyn back under his thighs and screaming for him to show her the meaning of perfection once again.

He'd just have to play his cards right with Kaitlyn. Surely she wasn't over him yet; after all, when you've driven a Mustang, how could you switch to driving a Volvo? All he'd have to do was sweet talk his way back into her good graces, and things would be better than ever—he'd have the chick, the Big Gold Belt, and the fame and fortune that he had desired for six long years ever since he donned a male cheerleading outfit just to get into this company.

Tonight was probably a bad time, given what happened to Sheamus; he didn't want to come off too insensitive. But by Monday, that should give him enough time to get his game ready to sweep the company's resident "Girl Next Door" off her feet.

And once he put Sheamus on his back at No Way Out, the Showoff smiled to himself, Dolph Ziggler would be where he was always meant to be…on top of the world.

* * *

**TBC…**

* * *

Hey guys, sorry to cut it short, but I've got thing to do in the morning, so I hope this will tide you over until I have some time to write again (hopefully later in the week, but no guarantees). Still, two updates in 24 hours, not too shabby, if I do say so myself. Lol! Big hi-fives to everyone who reviewed and is sticking with this story. The next chapter will feature more Punk/AJ, Kaitmus goodness before we head into a very interesting Raw, with No Way Out coming in about 3-4 chapters; and you won't believe what Laurinaitis and Daniel Bryan have in store for our favorite #BestCoupleIntheWorld! PunkAJ Nation, if you're feeling me, throw your hands up! (lol)

Read! Review! More to come soon! And that's the bottom line…WHAT?...I said that's the bottom line…WHAT? Because Jean-theGuardian Said So!

Oh, and PeoplePower1, this next song is dedicated just for you, enjoy it, because as of now, you are no longer allowed to comment on my stories _ever_ again, as all your comments will be screened via spamware and deleted:

_You were going to not root for Big Johnny, but then you got high_

_You were going to not leave stupid-ass comments, but then you got high_

_Now your comments are deleted, you're banned and we know why-hey heey!_

_Cause you got high, cause you got high, cause you got high!_

_Tro-lol-lol-lol-lol-lol #GetALifeFailTroll_

(Sorry, guys, I'm not normally this mean, but this loser kid's been trolling not only me, but the stories of good friends of mine and that just won't do. Like the Hulk Hogan theme says, "When you hurt my friends, then you hurt my pride, I've got to be a man, I can't let it slide!")

**#TeamPunkAJNation**

**#Heel**

**#OompaLoompa**

**#BringBackSofiaCortez**

Later!

Jean-theGuardian


	16. BACKSTAGE FALLOUT Exclusive

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 13.5**

* * *

**Caught on WWE Backstage Fallout**

**Moments after the show**

* * *

Cameras caught Chris Jericho, clutching an icepack to his head sitting near a crate, Cody Rhodes and Drew McIntyre nearby.

INTERVIEWER: Uh, hey, Chris, Drew, how're you guys doing?

JERICHO (angrily): What the hell do you want? Huh? What is it, you want another sound byte for your pathetic little internet show? Is that it?

INTERVIEWER: Well, if it's not too much trouble, we were wondering if you wanted to talk about tonight. Do you have anything to say about what transpired out there with Daniel Bryan?

JERICHO (chuckling bitterly): Daniel Bryan…let me tell you something about Daniel Bryan. He's a nobody. He's nothing, less than nothing. He's some little midget troll who toiled wrestling in high school gymnasiums and VFW halls for the last 10 years, and got himself eliminated first on the first ever NXT. He needed a magic briefcase and an unconscious Big Show to break through the glass ceiling and become World Heavyweight Champion, what a joke. You know how I did it? The whole world knows, I beat Stone Cold Steve Austin and The Rock on the same night—by myself—to become the first ever Undisputed WWE Champion. I've beaten a Who's Who among anyone whose ever been worth a damn in this company, and he thinks that he's going to mock me, sneak attack me from behind? He thinks he's going to squeeze me, a living legend and a future Hall of Famer, out of the WWE Title picture? (snorts bitterly) Well, he's got another thing coming. Daniel Bryan just made the biggest mistake of his life tonight, and he's going to pay for that dearly and very, very soon, I guarantee that.

INTERVIEWER: Are you at all worried that with Daniel Bryan's recent vicious streak in recent months that he'll pose a legitimate threat to you?

JERICHO: Threat? Vicious streak? You want to talk vicious? I am among the most ruthless, sadistic competitors this business has ever seen. You want proof of that? Why don't you ask…ask Randy Orton, huh? The whole world saw what I did to the WWE's so-called Apex Predator the night after he cost me the World Heavyweight Championship at Over the Limit. I beat him down, hit him with not one, not two but THREE Codebreakers. That man was at one point the most feared Superstar in the locker room, the unpredictable Viper, the Legend Killer, the guy who ran around here kicking people in the head. And I laid him out, beat him like a dog. And where is he now, huh? Probably licking his wounds somewhere in his little posh house in St. Louis, enjoying early retirement thanks to me. _That's_ what vicious is, and _that's_ what Daniel Bryan has to look forward to.

INTERVIEWER: Okay, um…well, can you tell us why you decided to target AJ out there? You—

JERICHO (snappishly): Why would I target her? Are you as stupid as you look? Why wouldn't I target her? I'm sure even a intellectual retard like you knows how to use the internet. You know by know how Punk's little groupie hit me right in my face with a serving tray in a club after hours.

INTERVIEWER: To be fair, I heard it was after you, Drew and Cody tried to jump CM Punk in that same club while he was dancing with—

JERICHO: Shut your mouth when I'm talking, jackass, I'M telling the story! She hit me in the face and could have disfigured me. My face is my money maker, a star like me who does all the work I do on VH1, for publicity shoots for the WWE, for my overseas tours with the greatest band in the world, Fozzy, a megastar like me depends on having my face unblemished and desirable for all the ladies to drool over and men to envy. AJ tried to take it away from me, so I attempted to do the same and smash her pretty little face in so that she would know how it feels like when someone threatens their livelihood like that.

CODY: And believe me, nothing is more scarring for beautiful people like myself or Chris here than when somebody destroys your face. Everyone knows the psychological trauma that I went through after Rey Mysterio intentionally tried to disfigure me last year, and that isn't something I would wish upon anyone. I agree with Chris 100 percent on this one.

JERICHO: Thank you, Cody, finally someone else with common sense who can explain it to this imbecile.

INTERVIEWER: Chris, are you at all worried about whatever possible ramifications you might face, especially from AJ's boyfriend, the WWE Champion, CM Punk?

JERICHO (sneering): Worried? About Punk? On the contrary, I look forward to it. If Punk is any kind of a man, he'll try and do something about it. I've been waiting for another shot at that Chris Jericho wannabe ever since his fluke win at Extreme Rules—

INTERVIEWER: And Wrestlemania 28 and the Elimination Chamber…

JERICHO (angrily): Do. _Not_. Cut Me Off. _Again_! I'm not going to warn you a third time, Flip Cam Monkey! I still take great umbrage to the fact that Punk is running around with that WWE Title telling everyone that _he's_ the Best in the World, when despite a few fluke wins, that distinction belongs to _me_. Running around and spreading a message of lies that _anyone_ can be special with a little hard work and dedication. I've been waiting for another shot at Punk for months to dethrone this liar and impersonator, and I'll do whatever it takes to get my shot at No Way Out against him and prove to the world—

INTERVIEWER (checks vibrating phone): Hold on…wait, this just tweeted on …apparently, Mr. Laurinaitis has announced moments ago that in 8 days at No Way Out, Chris, you will be involved in a Triple Threat match against CM Punk AND Daniel Bryan for the WWE Championship.

JERICHO (angrily stunned): What? You've got to be kidding me, a triple threat ma…no wait, it doesn't matter. (smiles ominously) It's perfect. I've got a perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, just like I did 10 years ago when I beat Austin and Rock in the same night. So, let me give you an exclusive, jerky, hold up your little camera right to my face so all your troll followers on YouTube can see this. I, Chris Jericho, and you heard it first here on Backstage Fallout, am guaranteeing victory at No Way Out. I'm going to beat that son-of-an-alcoholic Jericho wannabe CM Pink and that mountain goat's offspring Samuel Bryan—

INTERVIEWER: That's Daniel Bryan, Chris—

JERICHO: _I thought I told you to shut up when I'm talking, idiot_! I am going to beat them both at No Way Out to win my second WWE Championship and seventh world Championship overall, cementing my already legendary legacy and proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that I—not Samuel Bryan the Mountain Goat or CM Drunk—but I, Chris Jericho, am _the best in the world at __**everything**__ I do_. That is a Chris Jericho guarantee, and a Jericho guarantee is as good…as gold. Now get that thing out of my face, you disgust me!

[Jericho puts his hand to the camera lens and roughly shoves the interviewer over, the lens vision flying every which way]

-END TRANSMISSION-

* * *

TBC...

* * *

A/N: My name…is Jean-the _Guardiaaan_! But…you already know that. Lol

What you don't know is how much I love and appreciate all you faithful readers and followers paying attention to this story. You are my inspiration, my fellow Punklee fans out there in #TeamPunkAJNation (and even casual readers just discovering this story, welcome aboard!)

Please note that this is NOT the real chapter, just a little plot aside that popped into my head. The next chapter, as promised will feature plenty of Punk/AJ and Kaitlyn/Sheamus for your delight! I'll have it up by Friday, promise!

Now, if you just bear with me for a second while I sit cross-legged here, I want to address something that has been on my mind, and I will only address one-time here before I never speak of it again. I have understanding that a fellow author, RKO4Life, had many of her stories removed because of the malicious actions of one person, posting as PeoplePower1. I don't know RKO4Life, but as a fellow writer, you have my apologies for what happened to you, and I hope you post again soon. Don't stop writing, honey, the world would be a poorer place for it.

This same anonymous person also has been constantly attempting to post troll reviews on my story. Kid, I have no idea who you are, and frankly, I don't care, but pay close attention as this will be the only time I address you, because after this, as far as I'm concerned, you don't exist. I don't even care why you do what you do, other than that maybe you're just too stupid to write your own story (though if you created an account instead of hiding in the guest column, maybe I'd take a look at it and give you an honest, polite critique.) At first, I thought you were kinda funny, and was even amused by your posts as I thought you were a nice (though strange) kid. Now, you've shown your colors as being a pathetic, amoeba-brained, insecure little keyboard warrior that was too stupid to troll YouTube with your other kind, so you've targeted—of all things—a fanfiction website, like the loser that you are, where people work hard to showcase their writing and creative expression for their enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. You've targeted something fun and beautiful and tried to make it into your own twisted playground. The buck stops here, little girl. None of your ridiculous predictions will ever come true, not that anyone knows what they are as I've deleted your comments and will continue to do so (best of luck in your future trolling endeavors ;) ). You don't stop me from writing what I want when I want, I do it as I please. Your ignorance and your stupidity offend me as a writer, as a reader and it offends my fellow writers and the audience I write for, and therefore, your comments won't ever see the light of day. But I don't hate you, I pity you because it has to be sad that the only thing that gets your heart racing and gets you hard in the pants is to tear down others who just want to create something for the fun of it for other people to share.

And the same goes to any other coward out there who posts flames in the anonymous column to ANY story and run away like scared little kids—not knocking all anonymous reviewers because some of you are _extremely cool_ and I love you guys—and tear down the work of others because of stupidity or jealousy that you can't take the time out to do what someone else was brave enough to do, which is share their work and creativity with others, because you were either too stupid or too lazy to write your own stuff. The lot of you know who you are, and I pity you, because in order to do something like that, your life must be as empty as your heads. Grow up, children, the rest of the world is waiting on you. Now get the F*** off my story.

There. That's it. Sorry if I bored any of you with that, or if I seemed self-righteous, that's not me, but I stand my ground when I believe in something, the hell with what anyone else thinks. Last time I ever mention this topic or these people. I hate diatribes. ;) #Don'tFeedtheTrolls

Next chapter on the way soon, my dears! Read! Review! And a big hug from me! Like me on Facebook under Jean-theGuardian. Peace!

**#TeamPunkAJNation**

**#Friends-theAntiTroll**

-Jean-theGuardian


	17. Part 14

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 14**

* * *

**Marriot Hotel - Sheamus's Suite**

**Much later**

* * *

"_Ow_! Oy, watch it!"

Kaitlyn chuckled as Sheamus winced under her touch while she wrapped the bandages around his wrist.

"You know, for a guy whose been through table matches, street fights and Hell in a Cell, you sure put up a fuss over a little first aid," she teased, though she lightened her touch per his request.

"I've never been much fer first aid, Kaitie," he groused as he sat back in the sofa of the suite and let Kaitlyn work her magic. "I heal fast. Besides, all those band-aids and tape and all that claptrap's never been to me liking. Makes me feel like a stitched-up human piñata."

Sheamus had been like this ever since she helped him back to the hotel, with a little aid from Kofi and Layla; AJ and Punk had to take off and handle some stuff of their own. He wanted to fully enjoy the pleasure of Kaitlyn's attentive care and the fact that they were alone in the privacy of his suite, but he could not. And it was all because of one man—Del Rio.

Sheamus was a proud champion, tough, durable and strong. Which is why it killed him to admit that Daniel Bryan and Del Rio had gotten the better of him tonight. It was a trap from the start, and he walked right into it, all because he let his short-fused temper blind him after that slap. Bryan would pay for that, Sheamus would see to it, but Del Rio was another story. Few and far between were the times that the Great White had been humbled since he debuted in the company in late 2009, but this was definitely one of those times. Outsmarted and brutalized by a man that he had come to despise, by an arrogant, self-absorbed, pathetic excuse for a man and left in a crumpled heap with his face covered in his own blood. He could close his eyes and still see that revolting sneer on Del Rio's face, hear his Spanglish taunting and mocking in his ears.

He had to make an example of Del Rio now, he knew that. Give him a beating that would be remembered for a long time. And that was saying something. After all, Sheamus had once put the legendary Triple H on the shelf for 10 months after a brutal street fight, and even ended the career of Jamie Noble without much effort. That was just business. Del Rio was starting to make this very personal between them. And that was not something that Sheamus was going to take lightly. That moussed-up Mexican snob was going to have hell to pay, Sheamus vowed, and he would pay a steep price for what he did tonight.

"Well, if it helps…I think you make a really cute piñata," Kaitlyn smiled as she finished the last of her bandages.

That caught his attention nicely, a crimson tint visible on his alabaster cheeks.

"Ooh, now how about that?" Kaitlyn smiled teasingly. "I made the big tough Great White blush."

"Oy, careful now 'bout spreadin' that around, Kaitie," the World Champion smirked. "I've gotta rep ta maintain, ya know."

"Your secret's safe with me, Big Guy," Kaitlyn winked, chuckling softly as she applied some of the pain liniment to his forearm. "You're still Smackdown's resident Irish badass, as far as I'm concerned."

Feeling a jolt of unexpected pleasure as her hands gently brushed across his skin applying the soothing ointment to his tender, sore arm, Sheamus's blue eyes softened just a bit more. "Yer being an awfully good sport 'bout this, lass."

Kaitlyn frowned, a little confused by his statement. "About what? Playing nurse to a great guy who got jumped?"

"Playing nurse when I promised ye a night out on the town," Sheamus corrected, sighing in disappointment. "I'm sorry we had to put our plans on hold. Our…"

"Our date?" Kaitlyn prompted with a smile. Off his nod, the Houston native merely shrugged. "Hey, no worries. We'll just have to do it some other time. Just another thing to put of the "List of reasons why Alberto Del Rio is a pompous douchebag jerk.'"

His red eyebrows furrowed at the mention of his hated rival. "Coincidence, Kaitie, 'cause I'm logging this one under my 'List of reasons why I should kick 'Berti's head off,' which is exactly what I'm gonna do the next chance I cross paths with that slick-haired greaseball."

"The way he was moving tonight, I'd say you'll have your chance soon. He didn't look so injured to me tonight," Kaitlyn frowned as she continued applying the ointment, before brushing it off. "The important thing is that you're okay. I've seen what that stupid armbreaker thing of his can do. He put out Rey Mysterio and Christian last year with that thing. All things considered, you got off lucky."

"It's an Irish thing, Kaitie, I always get lucky," he winked at her, which made her laugh and teasingly slap his arm. "Hey, watch it now, darlin'. Or I might have ta complain 'bout yer bedside manner and get yer nursin' license revoked."

"Yeah? Well, good luck getting someone on such short notice that can put up with you," Kaitlyn smirked good-naturedly.

"Oh, surely I can't be that bad, now," Sheamus cocked an eyebrow.

"You have some…redeeming qualities," she coyly relented as her hand moved further up his arm.

"Like the hair, right? Chicks dig the hair," Sheamus quipped, flashing him a set of pearly whites that made Kaitlyn's heart do a little flip inside her chest.

"I do find it one of your more…interesting characteristics," she smiled, lightly petting the spikey flame-colored hair on the Great White. "You probably have to beat the ladies off with a stick nowadays, huh?"

"Just the groupies," Sheamus brushed off the notion, relishing the soft feel of Kaitlyn's hands on his arm, working his rock-hard bicep with a firm, yet gentle touch that seemed so…fitting…for her. "A few of 'em are cute n' all, but I don't pay 'em much mind. After I broke up with my last girlfriend, I guess I just wasn't all that interested in filling that gap with cheap sex."

"What was her name?" the question escaped her lips before she could stop it.

She saw his eyes become a little bit sad as a name softly came from his mouth. "Riona."

She knew she shouldn't be prying, but Kaitlyn couldn't help herself; she just had to know more about that last woman in his life. "So, uh…how come you guys broke up? I heard you and her were together for a while…"

"Two years. Even before joining the fed," Sheamus replied, a note of bitterness in his tone as he recalled his last relationship. "She didn't get my travelin' and the tourin'. She was a lawyer, actually, criminal law—did pretty well fer herself. Came from one of those upper-class families, so her parents were loaded, too. She knew me when I was doing the I.T. thing back in Dublin. I think Riona always figured that wrestling was just a passing fad that I needed to get out of my system before I eventually grew up, settled down in my 'normal job' and we'd move to a nice, normal little suburb where we'd raise a nice, normal little family and grow old together in our nice, normal little home."

Kaitlyn put two and two together quickly, a knowing look on her face. "And once she found out that you were doing it for the long haul…"

"Oh, she went berserk, lass," Sheamus chuckled dryly. "We spent the last two months fightin', yelling at each other over the phone, arguing every time I managed to see her whenever the tour went overseas to Ireland and I actually had a little time to visit. Ria—that''s what I used ta call her—thought I was wasting my life, even after I won my first two WWE Championships, over _Cena_, no less. Even when kids would stop me on the street and ask me for autographs, like I was some kinda big deal. Even when I brought her back souvenirs from every city and town I visited. I was finally getting my recognition, and she has the gall to tell me, 'You have a degree, you could have a real career, and instead, you're wasting time as some monkey on a traveling circus! When are you going to grow up so we can start having a normal life?' "And I told her, 'When are _you_ going to accept me for what I am, and accept that this _is_ my life?'

"And then on the last night before I had to go to Brussels, she lays down the big ultimatum. Tells me to choose—it's either her, or the WWE." He sighed bitterly as he recalled that painful moment. "I made her a counter offer. I said, 'All of me, all of this…it's who I am, Ria. Losing that would be like losing a big piece of what makes me… _me_. So, you can either accept me—_all_ of me—as I am, and we can try to make a go of it from there…or you don't. And you leave.'" He shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "And she left. I, uh, heard she found someone else, some fancy doctor workin' out of Belfast. They're supposed to be getting hitched this summer."

Kaitlyn sighed, her tone filled with sympathy as she heard his tale. It was obvious for her to see that whoever this woman was, she had meant a lot to Sheamus, and their ending had clearly hurt him. "Wow. Sheamus…I'm so sorry."

He waved it off. "It's fer the best, Kaitlyn. Neither of us would'a been happy goin' on like that. She deserves to be happy, even if that's not with me. Besides, I'm hardly the 'settling down' type, anyway."

"I don't know about that," she said. "That's what my dad told me he thought before he met my mom. She reeled him in, and he turned out okay."

"Reeled in. Like a fish," Sheamus replied, a little sardonically. "It's gonna take a lot to reel in this Great White, that's fer sure."

"If there's one thing I picked up when fishing with my uncle Rory near the Gulf, it's this—all fishes can get reeled in, Sheamo," she answered rather confidently. "Just need the right bait."

Yet again, his eyebrow popped up, bemused. "Is that right? And do ye fancy yerself the right bait, then?"

Kaitlyn shrugged. "Guess it depends."

"On what?"

Her smile—knowing, yet shy—made his mouth turn upwards in surprise. "On the catch."

"Sure yer not looking to have anyone else on the hook?" Sheamus casually inquired, trying hard to keep the envy out of his voice. "Bateman, perhaps, or...Ziggler?"

"Derrick and I are _waaaay_ over," Kaitlyn shrugged. "Sweet guy, but we decided that we're better off as friends. We didn't have as much in common as we thought we did, and well…after a while, the chemistry kinda fizzled out. I love a nice guy just as much as the next girl, but I guess I kinda like my guys to have a little bit of…I don't know…edge, too?"

"A sensitive badass? Yeah, good luck findin' that here," Sheamus chuckled.

"Don't mock my hopes, thank you," Kaitlyn admonished, as she continued to rub the ointment on his arm, taking an appreciation as to how hard the muscle beneath her touch were. "A girl's gotta have her dreams."

"And where did Ziggles stand?" Sheamus probed. "Is he stuck in the Friend Zone, too?"

The look on her face turned bitter at the mention of the blonde man's name. "Dolph was…a mistake. I was new, he was attractive, and we had fun, but when we got closer, I…I guess he wasn't what I thought he was." She sighed, memories of that bitter breakup coming unbidden before her eyes. "And it hurt. A lot…but I got over it."

"Didn't anyone tell you he was a jackass?" Sheamus asked, his brow furrowed. The man's reputation as a womanizing man-whore preceeded him; it was a little surprising to him that a lass as intelligent as Kaitlyn wouldn't have picked up or heard about that before getting involved with Vickie's whipped pet mimbo.

"Listening to advice and applying it are two different things, especially when hormones are involved," Kaitlyn sighed. "And maybe I was a little lonely, and…I don't know, I figured I'd take a risk. I guess it wasn't a risk worth taking."

Off the sad look in her eyes, Sheamus strained to reach up with his wounded arm. Gently as he could, he managed to brush back a stray lock or dark hair from her face. The simple action sent shivers down Kaitlyn's skin.

"Life's all about takin' risks, Kaitlyn," he said, his gentle tone not catching her off guard as much as the softness of those clear sky blue orbs staring back up at her. "Some are more worth it than others."

The flush of heat she suddenly felt did little for her failing attempts to keep a cool head. She wasn't here to jump his bones, she was here to help him mend. At least, that's what she kept telling herself. Over and over in her head, like a One Direction song stuck in the brain of a 13 year-old girl.

But the longer she held that penetrating gaze of his, the more she felt her resolve melting. "Yeah? So…that kiss last Monday…was that worth it?"

Finding a resolve that had escaped him several nights ago, when he turned tail and ran after planting one on Kaitlyn's lips, Sheamus flashed her a half-smile. "You tell me, darlin'."

She could feel the mood between them become far more intimate, her hands ceasing their movement on his arms as she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his. Unable to resist the invisible pull between them that seemed to reel her in closer.

"Uh…" was all she could manage.

"If it helps," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't run if I wanted to this time."

"That…that helps a lot, actually," Kaitlyn uttered, her heart pounding in anticipation. "Creates a comfort zone, and…and comfort is—"

Her sentence was lost in a muffled noise as Sheamus's mouth met hers. And lost with that movement were all reservations, fears and doubts, replaced by the movements of lips against lips, soft hands on rock-hard muscles, and lips tasting of salt and something decidedly strong, male…decidedly Sheamus.

And all at once, all sense and logic were lost as he pulled her into him with his one good arm, her own arms sliding around his neck as she melted into his embrace, her fingers gliding into his crunchy, spiked hair while his coarse hands slid across the silky skin of her back.

Regaining her senses for a moment, Kaitlyn managed to pull back slightly, her lips only inches from Sheamus's mouth. "Sheamus…I just don't want to do anything that we're gonna regret."

He studied her, and chose his words carefully. "We don't have to do anything ye do want to, Kaitie. I'll think no less of ye, regardless of what you want."

She studied his eyes carefully, searching for the signs of insincerity that she had become familiar with from most of the guys she had dated in the past. What she found instead was a kind of simple honesty that seemed to ring true to the man she had come to know. Most guys, in Kaitlyn's experience, were good at saying one thing, but meaning another, especially when it came to "getting lucky." What she saw in Sheamus's eyes was different—he actually meant what he was saying.

She swallowed, hard. "Okay. Then maybe…maybe we should wait. Y'know, until it feels…right."

Despite a small sinking feeling of disappointment in his chest, Sheamus merely nodded. "Aye. No problem. Whatever ye want."

Sighing, she turned slightly in his arms, until they lay snuggled against one another in the dimly lit hotel room, the blonde-brunette beauty taking comfort in the warmth radiating from his chest as she rested her head against his left pec.

"You're really cool with this?" she asked quietly. "Just…this?"

The scent of her hair, like fresh lemons, and the sweet berry smell of her skin filled his nostrils as he gently nuzzled the top of her head. True, he was looking forward to…whatever it was that was on the verge of happening between them. But Sheamus was not the sort of man that let his hormones and needs rule him. Two months ago, he would have crippled someone just for as much as this moment with Kaitlyn, and gladly take it. Nothing had changed that. If time was what she needed to trust herself around him, then Sheamus was willing to give her that time.

"This is kinda nice, actually," he assured her. "You. Me. Alone, doing…this. A fella could get use to this."

His answer made her smile against his chest, holding him close. "Yeah…I know the feeling."

* * *

TBC

* * *

**Next: Punk's worst nightmare…worse than a year-long Cena WWE title reign…worse than Daniel Bryan proposing to AJ…worse than Laurinaitis in a speedo…**

**Punk meets the Parents! What will AJ's family think of Punk as they meet the controversial tattooed Superstar for the first time? One thing's for sure…hilarity will ensue!**

* * *

A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry it took so long. I'm kinda going through some stuff, and it's been seriously disrupting my muse. But rest assured, I'm still plugging away, with no plans to stop until I finish! ( With AJ as GM, who else sees Punk and AJ as the next Triple H-Stephanie-like power couple? How awesome would that be? Lol On a side note, I know that kicking Jerry Lawler in the head was supposed to make me "hate" Punk, but honestly, after hearing Lawler's horrible commentary on the Divas Division for the last 12 years-especially with him burying Lita at every turn of her career and screaming PUPPIES! every six seconds that Trish was around-honestly, I think Punk did everyone a favor. #AvengePastDivas

And you gotta love the Twitter stuff lately between Punk and AJ. Always fun to read!

By the way, it warms my heart to report that at press time, FF dot net currently has 112 Punklee stories. One hundred twelve! I remember when there were barely 3 Punklee stories on our favorite couple, and now it's still growing and growing, with great stories and very talented authors coming out of the woodwork. Hats off to all of you in #TeamPunkAJNation! And for those of you out there itching to write your own, come on, don't be shy, join the Punklee Revolution!

This week's fic spotlight: Read** "All Fall Down" by AmandaEchelon.** It's a compelling, excellently written story focusing on the behind the scenes events of the Punk/AJ/Daniel Bryan storyline, with all the elements of a great Punklee story: drama, suspense, romance and plenty of Punk/AJ goodness. Find it! Read it! Review it!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and PM'ed me. You guys rock! Oh, and remember to read "Keeping them apart" from Pikasixjoy and "World Tour" by RonRon10, part of the Core4 Series. More on the way, complete with plenty of spotlight on Punk and AJ, and sooner than you think!

Like me on Facebook (Jean-theGuardian)!

**#TeamPunkAJ**

**#112**

**#KaitmusRocks**

**#Respect**

* * *

Jean-theGuardian


	18. Part 14point5

Me: Okay, Ricardo, just like we practiced.

Ricardo: _Damas y caballeros, es para mí un honor_ _presentarles el regreso del hombre que con su sonrisa ilumina el día, que con una mirada aterra a sus adversarios y que ustedes nunca podrán superar en riqueza, él es el essecia de excelecia Y el orgullo de México, el major escritor en todo Fanfiction punto net, el patron, él es...Jeaaaaaaaaan Theee Guardiiiaaaaaaan!_

Me: But of course…you already know dat. Lol! I'm _**BAAAAAACCK**_!

* * *

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 14.5**

* * *

**Saturday, June 9**

**WWE House Show, One Day after Smackdown, **

**Wildwoods Convention Center - Wildwood, New Jersey**

**Backstage - After the Show**

* * *

As proud a woman as Beth Phoenix was, she would never in a million years ever admit to feeling jealous.

And why should she? After the resume that she had posted in the last six years since entering the company—a three-time WWE Women's Champion, a former Divas Champion and 2008 Slammy Award winner for Diva of the Year—the self-titled Glamazon was more than confident that one day, she would earn her place in history along other great female pioneers in the WWE Hall of Fame.

She'd beaten great and fierce competitors and contemporaries in their prime. Mickie James. Melina. Michelle McCool. Eve Torres. Maryse. Hell, even the legendary Trish Stratus and Lita had given her props. From a glance, Beth had nothing to be unhappy about at all…

…except she was. Unhappy, and more than a little jealous.

Even as Natalya, her best friend and confidant, chatted to her near gorilla about her upcoming match in a little while against Rosa Mendez and Alicia Fox, the ice blue eyes of the Fabulous Firebird could not peel away from the sight about 30 feet away from her on the other side.

There stood Punk, her ex-boyfriend. Standing in all his tattooed glory, a gray hooded sweatshirt covering his torso, flashing that smile of his that had always sent tingles down Beth's toes. And just a few inches from him…AJ.

Cute, tiny, adorable AJ, holder of the Divas Championship that only a few months ago, Beth herself wore for six months with pride. The couple looked like the picture portrait of young love, Punk laughing in mirth at some goofy joke that AJ was making, the way her hands casually brushed against his chest…and the real knife-turner, the sweet, tender, yet feverishly ardent way the two kissed. For about 18 seconds.

Eighteen seconds of pure, undiluted, excruciating hell.

Attractive as Beth was (for someone of her rather statuesque proportions) she hadn't had that many boyfriends in her time, and even fewer ones that lasted for very long. Santino was an exception, but she only kept him around because he was good at making her laugh, and he did have an odd, eccentric charm about him. But after a while, she grew tired of him. He couldn't keep up with her appetites, and there wasn't any real passion there…certainly not like there was with Punk.

Punk…now there was a man that had knew how to satisfy her on every level. Talk? He was more cerebral than his brusque exterior let on, and they could talk about even complex things, like politics. Fun? The man could always find ways to keep busy, and as serious and nearly stoic a person as Beth was, even she found herself laughing and loosening up around his casual, fun-loving presence. Sex? It's like the man knew her body better than even she did. The things that man could do with his mouth in a dark room with a bed…a pleasurable shiver ran up Beth's spine at the thought.

It was one of the most intense, most inspiring, most memorable relationships she had ever had…and she blew it.

Because she had to try and mold Punk into someone fitting a more serious image—husband material, if you will. Because she had gotten jealous of his hanging out with his boys—and divas like Layla, who she despised—and had frequently argued with him about spending more time with her instead. Because he grew tired of her snatching his phone away and scrolling through his contacts, or sneaking on his computer when he was in the shower in their hotel room to scroll through his emails.

Because she just had to feel like she was in control of the wild rollercoaster ride she was on. It was a trait that Beth had never been able to shake, even in her youth. She had to be in control. She had to be the one in charge; anything else was a sign of weakness, an affirmation of the taunts and slurs that those worthless teen boys she grew up with pelted her with. Deep down, Beth felt that if she pushed hard enough, Punk would just cave; it was how she had usually gotten her way with everything else. To her surprise, and consternation, Punk was not the sort of man that allowed himself to be bullied.

Their last fight in December, just after TLC 2011—the BIG one—was bitter, ugly and had been building for months before that night. And the blowup was explosive, brutal and left not a trace of their relationship standing. The things he said to her that night still stung…after all, it wasn't every day that your so-called boyfriend called you a "complete and total douchebag." She hadn't held back either, throwing things at him and cursing and shouting until she ended up leaving his hotel room in a huff, Punk shouting at her to go to hell before he slammed the door. And all at once, Beth was alone…again.

She should have been over him by now, she knew that. It had been months; she knew that she could probably find a man on the roster with little problem, someone that she could have under her thumb and would bend over backwards to please her. But try as she might, she could not shake the memory of Punk from her mind. She had never appreciated the specialness of what she had with him until she had lost it…which is why the sight of he and AJ looking so couple-y back made her sick with envy and her heart ache with longing.

Needless to say, Beth's mood was absolutely foul when she hit the ring. She stiffed Rosa hard several times in that match and the Glam Slam she hit Alicia with—which earned her and Natalya the victory—struck the pretty Diva's head so hard that she had to be helped to the back after the match.

She ignored the stares as she stalked back through the curtain after the match, ignored the sounds of Natalya trying to get a word in with her as she barged into the empty locker room, every cell in her body vibrating with pent-up frustration and a yearning to hit something...or someone.

And she half-heartedly listened to Natalya's futile attempts to calm her down. Nattie, after all, was no fool, she had likely seen Beth's eyes wander towards Punk and AJ's direction even during their conversation.

But as much as she wanted to believe in Nattie's words—"You've got to get a grip, girl, you're better than this," "He's not worth it, Beth, you'll find somebody else," "You're so close to getting back on track, Beth, don't blow it all for a guy who couldn't realize how amazing you are!"— part of Beth knew that this was something Natalya simply wouldn't understand. She hadn't lost what Beth had; she hadn't tasted bliss and dropped the spoon into the mud, like she had.

She loved Nattie like family, but there were some things that not even family could understand, sometimes…

As if on cue, in walked the smug, haughty form of someone that made Beth's stomach turn in disgust (and for once, it wasn't Kelly Kelly.)

"Beth! How are you? Great match out there," greeted Eve in all her saturated politeness. "Mind if we talk for a minute? Alone?"

Off the eye roll Beth responded with, Natalya tried to run interference. "Eve, not now," she said sternly, "this is a really bad time—"

Dismissively, Eve held up her hand to the Canadian Diva. "_Excuse me_, I was talking to Beth," she countered frostily, before returning a more pleasant gaze to Beth. "I have a business proposition for you that I think you'll find…interesting."

Despite her current sour mood, Beth was a businesswoman at heart; and while her distaste for Eve as a person bordered on the epic proportioned size, the Buffalo-born Diva knew that these days, Eve's influence wasn't something to be ignored.

Nodding to Natalya, the second-generation Diva glared at Eve before she followed Beth's wishes and walked out of the locker room.

"Glad to see you've still got it," Eve said appraisingly. "Alicia will be feeling that Glam Slam into next month, I'll bet."

"Is there a reason why you're here?" Beth replied brusquely. "Last I checked, I'm sure I didn't rank very high on your busy list of priorities these days, being a glorified secretary to John Laurinaitis."

Eve merely smirked. "Executive Administrator to the General Manager, sweetie. But hey, it does get me air time."

She couldn't resist a smug little dig at her old rival. "You remember what that was like, don't you? Whoever could forget the iconic moment of the great Beth Phoenix dropping her Divas Championship to one of those so-called Barbie Dolls you were so dead-set on vanquishing from the company?"

At once, Beth's posture snapped taut and her blue eyes glowed in fury. She was in absolutely no mood to put up with this crap tonight, and nobody talked to her like that and still maintained their ability to chew solid food afterwards.

Eve had the presence of mind to back down a little, putting her hands up in mock apology. "Hey, hey, relax, calm down. I come in peace, Beth. But more importantly I come in respect. I mean, I'll be the first to admit it—you've kicked my ass more times than I can count."

The thought made Beth smile a little in satisfaction; kicking Eve's ass had been almost as satisfying as beating up on those juvenile, overrated, clothing-obsessed twits known as LayCool back when they were around.

"And yet…you haven't even had so much as a proper one-on-one match on Raw or Smackdown in months," Eve reminded her with mock sympathy, the spray tanned former model silently relishing the darkened look in Beth's eyes. "Last year, you were the most talked-about Diva on the roster…and now? Every now and then, I get fans asking me everywhere, 'Hey, whatever happened to that buff chick, Bette something? Is she even with you guys anymore?' From conquering champion to complete afterthought…that has to be embarrassing, huh?"

"What. Do. You. _Want_?" Beth ground out, coldly, on the verge of snapping Eve's neck like a dried twig.

"Easy, now," Eve backed off, knowing that she had succeeded not only in wounding the Glamazon's pride, but in getting her undivided attention. It took all of her discipline to keep from gloating. "I come in peace. In fact, I've even come with a little proposition for you."

Beth scoffed. She had come to know Eve long enough to realize—even when she was putting on that phony goodie two-shoes act that Beth saw right through—that anything Eve offered always came with an ulterior motive. "And, why, pray tell, would I ever consider anything being offered by you?"

"That depends," Eve smirked, as she got ready to dangle the proverbial carrot. "Would you consider another shot at the Divas Championship interesting?"

_Damn it_, Beth realized with dismay as she had to give this she-devil her credit—she knew how to keep a person's interest.

"Okay, I'm listening," Beth said, her tone cautious. She was interested as hell, all right, but the six-year Divas veteran knew better than to get her hopes up; with Eve Torres, the devil was always in the details.

That devil did not take long to rear its horns as she listened to Eve's offer. It was rather simple; Eve would use her connections to arrange a Divas Championship match for Beth against AJ, the reigning champion. All Beth would have to do was simple—make sure that the tiny, spunky "Crazy Chick" was given a beating so brutal, so shattering that she'd never recover.

In short…Eve was asking Beth to cripple the spitfire Geek Goddess.

Had this been about two or three years ago—hell, even last year—Beth would have merely smiled, shook Eve's hand and prepared to sit on the throne over AJ's broken bones without as much as a doubt in her mind. But while losing her Divas title after her impressive six-month reign as champion, stung, and the string of losses to both Layla and AJ that followed left a bitter taste in her mouth, much had changed in Beth's world.

Few knew this, but she was actually considering walking away from it all. She had given every drop of sweat, blood and tears for the WWE for six years, but frankly, she knew that she didn't have better days to look forward to in the ring. Even though she was still in her early 30s, the toil of half a decade of slams and blows had taken its toll on her body. And she wanted other things down the road for herself—marriage, for instance.

She had enough money to start up a business of her own, and she wanted that dream of a husband, the three kids and a cozy little home with a backyard tree house in the suburbs in Buffalo, enjoying the warmth of summer in the backyard, raking the leaves in the fall and wrapped under a blanket with her husband while watching the kids play in the snow during the winter; it was corny, she knew, but she had craved that little life that she could call her own.

The breakup with Punk–who she had briefly imagined fitting that role—opened her eyes to much. She realized that in order to find that person out there, just for her, she would have to start changing the hard-nosed way she looked at life. She'd have to take a deep long look in the mirror and find out who Beth Phoenix really was; something that she couldn't do when traveling on the road 200 days out of the year.

But she didn't want to leave the company without making sure it was in good hands after she left. She was the anchor of the locker room, she knew that; the others who had made this division great, Mickie, Melina, Michelle McCool (arrogant as she was) and Victoria, were gone now. Beth was part of a dying breed of performers that had changed the way the word "Diva" was defined, and she was immensely proud of that. But what good was a legacy if there was nothing left behind of the division after she left? Which was why she had to look to the future to see who could help the Divas Division stand after her time was done…

That was where AJ came into the picture. Beth would never say this aloud, but deep down…she respected AJ. Hell, she even kind of _liked_ her. The multiple-time champion thought little of AJ when she first came into the company—after all, the girl looked so small and skinny that Beth figured she could knock her down with a yawn—but little by little, AJ had begun to win her over. She showed skill, passion and prowess with each match. She showed a surprising, and kind of inspiring, resiliency after the very public trials she endured at the hands of that creep Daniel Bryan. And she showed a mental toughness in the face of the recent string of good fortune, attention and success under the watchful eyes of the company and the fans. She was tough, and Beth respected the hell out of that; and for those reasons, Beth had picked _her_. In the Glamazon's eyes, AJ was the one she had been planning to sit down with, to work with and mold into the next torchbearer for the Divas, the way that Beth had once held it, and Mickie, and the greats Trish Stratus and Lita before her.

And now? To get back the title that meant so much to her…she would have to snuff out the flame of AJ's blossoming career just as it was starting to get off the ground.

Beth regarded Eve with cool, analytical eyes. "Let me ask you something—why now? Why me? And why her?"

Eve merely shrugged. "Why not? Unless you're telling me that you don't want to be Divas Champion, in which case, I can just go—"

"Don't be stupid," Beth gruffly spat. "Of course I do."

"Then what's the problem?" Eve threw her a quizzical look. "Just take the deal, and you've got it."

"But why do you want me to put her out of action?" Beth demanded. "The girl's a little on the crazy side, sure, but she's drawing attention, and that's what the Divas need right now. It's either that, or the girls will have to go back to dark matches and opening 'Superstars.'"

"And who says it should be _AJ_ to get all that attention? What has _she_ ever done to deserve it?" Eve retorted, with a hint of jealousy in her voice. It didn't really surprise Beth; she had known Eve to be something of an attention whore for a while, but at least she was a little more honest about it.

"Come on, Beth, I know you," Eve continued, her devious hazel eyes boring into the Glamazon. "You may not like me very much, but you know that I'll always tell it to you straight. Deep down, it's killing you that it's her up in the limelight, and not you? You could floss your teeth with that scrawny little toothpick, and yet she's skipping around here with your Divas Championship…_and_ your ex-boyfriend to boot. If I didn't know better, I'd say it's like she's…_replacing you_ altogether."

As she spied the Buffalo native's blue eyes look away in pensive frustration, Eve bit down hard on her lips to keep the grin off her face. Beth might have her beat in the brute, mannish strength department, but when it came to brains and mind games, Eve considered herself to be Beth's better in every way. It wouldn't take much more to nudge Beth along on the path to AJ's destruction.

"Isn't there a little of the old Beth Phoenix in there that just wants to pluck that little mosquito's wings off and just reach out and take what's yours?" the former model daringly asked, walking up behind Beth. "Or did Layla's wins over you and that triple threat loss to AJ smother that fire for good? The Beth Phoenix I know wouldn't take a backseat to anyone, let alone some psychotic anorexic midget that thinks of, uggh, _plaid_ as a fashion statement.

Each word was like a rusted knife twisting deep into Beth's wounded psyche. Because the truth be told, as much as she tried to downplay it, there was a small part of her, the competitive part, the fiery part of her that drove her to succeed, to push past the pain of injuries and fatigue and just win, _win,_ _**WIN**_ that craved just one more moment in the sun, one more chance to prove that she belonged where AJ was now. As much as she wanted to look towards the peace she prayed to find in the future where the division's legacy could thrive and grow even without her, there was part of her that still longed for and thrived in the race for dominance in the ring. She was good at her job; she knew it. Didn't she deserve at least one more chance to show everyone just how good she really was? Or would that be selfish? Did it matter? Should it?

"The Beth Phoenix _I_ know is a ruthless, tough-as-nails, force of nature that took what she wanted and did what she wanted whenever she wanted to do it. Isn't there a little bit of the old Glamazon that wants to spread her wings and smash, kill and destroy all in her path? Does that woman even exist anymore?" Eve grinned as she let her voice drop to a whisper in Beth's ears. "Or is all that's left of the once-great and feared Beth Phoenix just…a lonely, used-up old _has-been_ that's not even good enough to keep her boyfriend satisfied, let alone beat some geeky schoolgirl who stole her man right from under her n-_yaaak_!"

With a sudden and brutal show of speed and strength, Eve found herself gasping for air as she was slammed back first into the wall behind her, the unrelenting stone-like grip of the Glamazon firmly latched around her throat.

Trembling and wide-eyed, Eve stared into the raging blue depths of The Fabulous Firebird's arctic irises. And for a moment, Eve could almost hear the blaring sirens of the impending ambulance that would inevitably come to scoop up her tattered and broken form from the locker room.

Instead, she was greeted with Beth's menacing growl of a voice.

"Let's get something straight, you underdressed, stuck-up, no-talent office space _whore_," the Buffalo powerhouse snarled. "First, if I _ever_ hear my name and the words 'has-been' come off your lips, or _anything_ about my personal life again, the only head shot you're going to have to worry about is the one they run of you in the obits section of the newspaper. And, _**two**_…"

On the word "two," Beth squeezed Eve's throat for extra emphasis, making the former model gag as she winced in her grip, completely at the mercy of the three-time Women's Champion…

…until Beth suddenly dropped her hand, allowing Eve to breathe as she tenderly rubbed her throat, catching air in relieved pants of breath.

Shame fell on Beth's conscience as she realized what the ramifications of Eve's deal meant, particularly for AJ. Beth liked the kid, and she respected her, she really did. But like and respect didn't get anyone anywhere in this business. AJ was definitely the future of the Divas, in Beth's eyes; the problem was, this wasn't the future.

This was the present. And in the present, there was only room for one top lioness in this jungle, and Beth would be damned if she said she didn't still want to be on top.

Beth paused for a moment, a good long moment. Then she locked eyes with Eve, her blue orbs steeled with finality as she made her decision.

"Deal," Beth quietly muttered, drawing a surprised, and somewhat smug, grin on Eve's attractive face.

_Perfect. Just…perfect_, the conniving beauty smiled in serpentine fashion. She just convinced the most brutal and powerful Diva on the active roster to set her sights on Eve's rival and the lone obstacle in the way of gaining the affections of that gorgeous CM Punk.

Of course, Eve made no mention of the fact that she would eventually have to find a way to rid herself of Beth, as well. In Eve's mind, she only wanted the best for the Divas Division; and by her definition, that meant the best Diva—_herself_, of course—on top as reigning Divas Champion.

And to top it off, once Beth disposed of that annoying little pest AJ, Eve was confident that soon, she'd have the WWE Champion and the company's most eligible bachelor—who'd be stressed, hurting and alone without his little companion—wrapped around her finger…and her legs wrapped around his waist as she showed him what a real woman was like.

When it came to getting what she wanted, Eve would play whatever games she had to. And no matter the price, she always played to win. _And I always do._

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**Next: Punk's worst nightmare…worse than a year-long Cena WWE title reign…worse than Daniel Bryan proposing to AJ…worse than Laurinaitis in a speedo…**

**Punk meets the Parents! What will AJ's family think of Punk as they meet the controversial tattooed Superstar for the first time? One thing's for sure…hilarity will ensue!**

* * *

What's gooood, my peoples! Great to be back in the saddle again. I'm so sorry for the delay, but well, I've been job hunting aggressively in the last month, and my labors have paid off, as I am back in the land of the money-making once again! WOO-HOO!

(dancing) making millions of dollars, millions of dollars, millions of dollars… lol

Night of Champions is over, yet Punk's reign is not! BEST IN THE WOOORRLD! And did anyone catch that argument with Punk and AJ backstage after RAW? Damn, those two are in need of some serious hot shower makeup sex! Lol Oh, and by the way, in case there was any doubt….

IIII'M the Tag Team Champions!

IIII'M the Tag Team Champions!

IIII'M the Tag Team Champions!

(LOL My new favorite line; gotta love that D-Bry)

I have to say, I'm really impressed with the new Punklee stories coming up here! Great job, guys, you are all very impressive, and it's great to see such talent out there writing and doing your thing. Keep it up, guys, and to all the newbies who are dying to write one of their own…come on, sharing is caring!

This was just a mini-chapter to wet your appetite for the next REAL chapter coming up this weekend. Punk WILL meet the parents, and I've had the idea rattling in my head for a while. Hopefully, it'll be worth your time before we get into the next RAW, where the story gets much more dangerous for our favorite Punker and his Crazy Chick.

Special thanks to QueenBee, PikaSixJoy, Tvnut loves Jax Teller, RKO4Life, ladylookslikeadude, heidipoo, CRuck, WhiteAsukalover, Sharona1981, PeaceLoveMuzic, Red Foxy, Deadliest Priestess,, p, Cat'squill, VIXXY Vampire (V2, my sister from another mister!) Unbeleivably Random and RonRon10 (Core4…the Symbol of Excellence!) You guys RULE!

Spotlight Fic of the Week: This one's a toughie, because there are so many great new ones out there (133 Punklee stories! How freaking cool is THAT!) So…I'll pick two!

Read "Take Me With You" by Red Foxy. When CM Punk decides to take an extended break from wrestling, he won't be taking a break alone. AJ tags along, leading to a series of romantic interludes, sweet moments, romantic rivalries and a life-threatening catastrophe that could change everything for Punk and AJ forever. Great read, wonderfully written, and still ongoing. Read it! Love it! Review it! (It's Foxy's first fic, so come one, #PunkAJNation, make her feel welcome!)

The second pick? You'll have to see my new chapter later this weekend for that. But, White Firebird? I think you'll be interested… ;)

More on the way soon!

**#TeamPunkAJNation**

**#Punklee**

**#Good2BBack**

**#I'MtheTagTeamChampions**

-Jean-theGuardian


	19. UPDATE

Hey all!

This isn't so much a chapter as it is a quick update. On Monday, I, like many others on the East Coast, was one of the people affected by Hurricane Sandy. Currently, technicians are working to get the power back in my neighborhood. I should be back online soon, and hopefully, with a new chapter. Working out of a coffee shop at the moment. Never take life's comforts for granted, friends; you really don't know what you've got till it's gone.

Special thanks to : ladylookslikeadude, WhiteAsukalover, BITW, RKO4Life, CRuck, White Firebird, PeaceLoveMuzic, BlairPunkers, AJPunkForever (damn right lol), Noraque, Deadliest Priestess, Sharona1981, Cat'squill, RonRon10, Tvnut loves Jax Teller, UnbeleiveinglyRandom, and Kelzo85. You guys rock!

So, a lot has changed since I've been gone I see. AJ's no longer GM, and (ugh) Vickie is holding that distinction (at least until Ric Flair makes his grand return. #WOOO!) Despite the nauseating puke that is AJ/John Cena making its appearance in recent weeks (WTF, WWE?) I still have the theory that a heel Punklee can happen around, oh, say, TLC?

And Punklee stories are at 197!

_**One Ninety SEVEN!**_

The drive to 200 is one, let's make it happen! By the way, I am in the process of completing a new one-shot story (well, I was before the lights went out) for Sheamus /Kaitlyn/Dolph Ziggler called **"Breathe Again"** – a prequel to "Hard to Handle", beta'ed/co-written along with the lovely and uber-talented AmandaEchelon. Look for it in the next few days. (The title was inspired by the Sara Bareilles song of the same name.)

Oh, and be sure to check out my new community, "Punklee Nation" where AJ/Punk stories now have a home. Recommend! Read! Fangirl/Fanboy to your heart's delight!

But in the mean time, here's a sneak peak at the next chapter, where Punk meets AJ's parents for the first time:

* * *

"Punk, for God's sake, will you please stop messing around with your tie?"

"I just hate this thing, AJ. It feels like a noose around my neck. Or a leash."

"You look fine, just stop pulling at it. It's silk, it'll wrinkle."

"It's like 85 degrees out today, and I've got to wear a monkey suit and this freakin' tie. I'm boiling like chowder over here."

"And I'm going to strangle you with that freakin' tie if you don't stop messing around with it! _Now quit it_!"

Punk and AJ had been carrying on like this for about an hour now. Union City wasn't the easiest place in the world to find a parking spot. Not many sidewalks and curbs were able to fit the giant tour bus owned by the WWE Champion, but they had managed to find a nearby city-owned parking garage that charged an arm and a leg to store the bus.

From there, the couple had to walk for about a half hour to get to the Lee-Mendez home in the sweltering summer heat of the midday sun, where Punk would have to encounter heat of a different kind—make a good impression on the family of the woman he loved.

It wasn't easy getting back there, either. Despite his dressing up in shades and a suit, which felt completely alien to him, and AJ dolling up in a rather flattering pink dress with matching heels—also a foreign fit for her as opposed to her beloved Converse sneakers—fans managed to recognize them walking the street, anyway, and began circling around them for autographs and pictures.

AJ had enjoyed, even reveled a little in the attention, but Punk, though he put on the smiling face as he fielded one request after another, was in no mood to deal with this right now.

All he had on his mind was getting through this potential mine field and working his way into his girlfriend's family's good graces. He could tell that it meant a lot to her, as it was all she could talk about during the last few days. He could hear her chattering in Spanish to her mother over the phone, see her typing away furiously to her brother via email as she confirmed his imminent arrival…yet she ducked away in a quick blur whenever she spoke to who Punk presumed was her father on her cell phone.

Her father…now that was a challenge that he wasn't looking forward to. Asking a diehard Chicago Cubs fan like Punk to break bread with a hardcore Yankees fan was a bitter pill to swallow…but for AJ, he was willing to do that.

Even if there was a chance that he might not make it out of this one alive.

"Okay, so…anything else I should be up to speed on?" asked the Chicago native about 15 minutes later as they rounded the corner down Franklin Avenue, the street where AJ's family resided.

"Mmm, nothing that comes to mind," AJ said as she ran down her mental list of Things to Remember. "You've got the chocolate cake, my mom's favorite, so that should get you in good graces with her. My brother Eliot will just be glad you stopped by. Again, just focus on my dad—that's the Main Event of the day."

"Ah, yes, Daddy Dearest," Punk smirked, before he realized that AJ omitted one crucial detail. "By the way…is he a big man?"

AJ chuckled at the slightly apprehensive look on her boyfriend's face as they opened the small gate outside the Lee-Mendez residence. "Aww, look at you, all nervous. It's cute, actually. And no, he's about your height. But remember…he does carry a gun."

Though he managed to chuckle at her joke, Punk gulped nervously at the thought. He might have had claim to the title of Best in the World…but that didn't mean he liked guns. At all.

"Hope they didn't make too big a deal over this little visit," Punk said, with a touch of wishful thinking.

AJ waved off that thought as she rang the doorbell. "Nah, it's just another Sunday afternoon. No reason for them to go overboard."

No sooner did those words leave her mouth than did the door fly open, revealing a pretty middle-aged brunette woman at the door…no doubt AJ's mother…and about 40 to 50 other people that Punk had never seen before.

"SURPRISE!" came the loud roar of the guests, a festive rainbow-colored party banner hung above the mantle of the home reading "Welcome Home, April!"

Staring at the sea of strangers in front of him-particularly a mid-sized, barrel-chested man with his arms folded across that massive chest and a none-too-friendly look on his face..._yeah, with my luck, that **has** to be AJ's dad_, the WWE Champion realized-Punk nervously swallowed. _Oh, no, nothing overboard at all. No pressure...oh, boy…_

* * *

Well, that's all for now! Like me on Facebook, Follow Me on Twitter, and be sure to leave your reviews and PM's, my dears. I'll be looking for them when my power's back full time. Oh, and Happy Halloween!

**#PunkleeNation**

**#TeamAJPunk**

**#HuckFurricanes**

**#NeverGonnaStopMe**

-Jean-theGuardian


	20. Part 15 - Punk Meets the Parents, Part 1

Happy Holidays! (cue music) Guess who's back…back again…Jean-theGuardian's back! Tell your friends! lol

* * *

**Hard to Handle **

**Part 15**

* * *

**Flash Forward**

**December 2012 – Punk's apartment**

**Chicago, ****Illinois**

* * *

**[DVD Extra from "CM Punk: Best In the World" DVD]**

[Cut to midrange shot of Punk and AJ sitting on the couch, Punk dressed in gray hoodie, Chicago Cubs hat, sneakers and ripped jeans, left arm casually around AJ's shoulders, AJ sporting a black hooded sweatshirt with giant yellow Pikachu logo emblazoned in front, skinny jeans and black and white Converse sneakers, left hand reached up and intertwined with Punk's left hand, her head comfortably nestled into his shoulder as she adjusts her glasses for the third time in two minutes.

Behind them, a Christmas tree lit up with lights and decorations adorns the background, presents around the tree, while the snow falls behind them on the outside in a Windy City snowfall just before Christmas.]

**INTERVIEWER:** So, uh, before we got interrupted—sorry about the lighting issue again, by the way—tell me what it was like meeting AJ's family for the first time?

**PUNK** (a snort of laughter barely suppressed, prompting a smiling AJ to raise an interested eyebrow at him, before retorting sarcastically): Wow, this doesn't feel like a set-up question at all!

**AJ** (smirking): C'mon, don't be shy, answer the question, Punkers.

**PUNK**: Okay, alright…(smirking deviously) they are the worst people ever, they eat babies for breakfast-(yelps after swiftly being elbowed by AJ in the stomach) OW! Okay, okay…it's actually two-year olds-OW! (another elbow from AJ, who has a slightly threatening, but widely smiling look on her face) Okay, okay, quit it, woman!

**AJ** (smiling): Then tell the truth and I'll stop hitting you, stupid.

**PUNK** (grinning as he pulls her in with his arm, to which she happily cuddles into him, holding hands again and resuming their position) Meeting the parents is always a big deal. There's a lot of things that can go wrong. They may not like the way you look, the way you dress, the way you talk, maybe they think you don't talk enough, they might think you're a weirdo or, worse, a jerk...and those are relationship killers. I dated a girl just after high school who—and this is a true story, by the way—who invited me into her house for dinner one night on a weekend.

And I said fine, whatever, and I went there dressed in jeans and a Black Sabbath T-shirt, because we were going to go to the rollerskating park with a couple of my friends. So, I walk up to the door, and I ring the bell, and her dad opens up the door, takes one look at me and says, "Get the [bleep] off my porch." [Pause] And I go "Uh, excuse me?" And he goes "Get the [bleep] off my porch, you're not taking my daughter out tonight or any other night." And he just slams the door in my face. And I'm just standing there with this, just…_mortified_ embarrassment of thinking "_What the [bleep] just happened_?" (laughs) I, uh, never heard from that girl again, by the way.

**AJ** (pouting): Oh, my sweet, sweet Punkers. (gently tracing his beard, smiling sympathetically) She was probably a bitch, anyway.

**PUNK** (smiling as he toys with a strand of her hair) Well, yeah, she was, actually. Funny thing, though, I was actually going to break up with her after the date, so…(both Punk and AJ laughing, presumably at the irony, before he turns back to the camera) So, yeah, meeting the parents, a pretty big deal. And this one I had to do my homework on, and that was already on top of having to worry about Daniel Bryan, about Chris Jericho, and old SnickleFritz Laurinaitis, so I was like…just…wired trying to get ready for just this one family gathering, because by now, AJ and I, we had just come off telling each other "I love you" for the first time, and we'd been dating for like two months now. And I'm just, like, madly in love with her at this point—

**AJ** (raising an eyebrow poignantly): "At _this _ point?"

**PUNK** (caught offguard for a moment, before quickly recovering): At every point, babe, you know that! (bringing her closer and kissing her forehead, prompting a pleased giggle from her)

**INTERVIEWER**: Now, AJ, that brings me to you, for a second…what was it like going home that day?

**AJ** (her eyes becoming pensive): Well, coming home is…always an interesting experience. I mean, it's not the best kept secret in the world that I didn't really have much growing up. No, wait, we didn't have anything, really. My dad didn't have the best education when he came up from Puerto Rico to the states, and neither did my mom. So, they worked hard finding whatever work they could find, and by the time I was 12, I was working, too. My friend's dad owned a supermarket in New Jersey, and he let me break some boxes and sweep the back for a couple of hours a night before I had to go home, finish all my homework, get a few hours of sleep, wake up, go to school and…do the whole thing over again! (laughs it off, but Punk's hand begins soothingly rubbing her shoulders, sympathy in his eyes)

Actually, for a good while, we didn't have a home. My dad got hurt working off a delivery truck and, for a couple of years, he just…couldn't work. Like, through all of my high school years, he just couldn't work, he blew out disks in his back and we couldn't afford the surgery. So, for a while, we were homeless. It was a lot of, y'know…eating at food banks, living in cars and motel rooms, other people's houses when we got lucky. (pauses for a moment, swallowing) So, uh…now that he's better and working again and things are better at home, and I actually _have_ a lot of money to send back, it's just nice to, you know…HAVE a home to go back to now. And it's ours now, Daddy and I paid the last down payment on it a few months back, so the bank can't come and take it away, ever. Which feels good. I mean, I own the deed on a really nice house in the suburbs in Jersey now, but it's good to know that the people you love are taken care of, and even better when you know you played a part in it.

But I digress. (laughs nervously) So, yeah, I was prepping Punk pretty hard the last few days leading up before the big dinner. What to do with my brother, Robert, telling him to compliment my mom's cooking-

**PUNK**: And THAT was a challenge, because I don't really eat any meat anymore, and AJ's family…I got there and there was nothing BUT meat. They had, like plates full of pork, steak, ham, rice, beans, those little stuffed things with the bread crust around them-

**AJ**: _Empanadas_, baby.

**PUNK**: Right, empa, oompa-er…whatever it is she said. (both laughing) And so, I can still eat meat, but whenever I do, my stomach makes me pay for it afterwards, because I'm just not used to it anymore. I think I had to use the can for a good hour in a gas station after we left.

**AJ** (crinkling her nose): _Eww_.

**PUNK**: (sternly) Hey, c'mon, now, don't judge my poop!

**AJ** (laughing, cooing): Aww, baby, you know I've put up with a lot of your 'poop,' the least I can do is judge it!

(Both laughing, Punk actually holding his side for a moment)

**AJ**: Okay, so, the real challenge was my dad. I think he looks at me sometimes, and he still sees his little girl. And, well, even though I consider myself a bit of a tomboy, when it comes to my father, I'm always a Daddy's Girl. (smiling) But Dad is pretty…well, let's say he's protective of me-

**PUNK** (incredulously): Protective? AJ, the man did everything short of patting me down when I came over!

**AJ** (rolling her eyes): Oh, come on, now, Phil, you're just exaggerating. He wasn't THAT bad.

**PUNK**: Really? Then how about YOU sit with him in his study while you're surrounded in a room full of GUNS?

**AJ** (sighing): It's not like they were loaded…well, not the usual ones he keeps loaded. (off Punk's shocked expression, she laughs hysterically, gently poking his nose) Y-y-you should see your face right now!

**PUNK** (his "not impressed" face on, turning and silently mouthing to camera): Crazy chicks…(louder for camera) Okay, I'll just tell you the story for yourselves and let YOU judge if I'm right about AJ's dad. Now, _here's_ what happened that day…

* * *

**[Flashback]**

* * *

**6 months earlier- Sunday, June 10, 2012**

**12:47 p.m.**

**Two blocks from Lee-Mendez Home**

**Union City, New Jersey**

* * *

"Punk, for God's sake, will you _please _stop messing around with your tie?"

"I just hate this thing, AJ. It feels like a noose around my neck. Or a leash."

"You look fine, just stop pulling at it. It's silk, it'll wrinkle."

"It's like 85 degrees out today, and I've got to wear a monkey suit and this freakin' tie. I'm boiling like chowder over here."

"And I'm going to strangle you with that freakin' tie if you don't stop messing around with it! _Now quit it_!"

Punk and AJ had been carrying on like this for about an hour now. Union City wasn't the easiest place in the world to find a parking spot. Not many sidewalks and curbs were able to fit the giant tour bus owned by the WWE Champion, but they had managed to find a nearby city-owned parking garage that charged an arm and a leg to store the bus.

From there, the couple had to walk for about a half hour to get to the Lee-Mendez home in the sweltering summer heat of the midday sun, where Punk would have to encounter heat of a different kind—make a good impression on the family of the woman he loved.

It wasn't easy getting back there, either. Despite his dressing up in shades and a suit, which felt completely alien to him, and AJ dolling up in a rather flattering pink dress with matching heels—also a foreign fit for her as opposed to her beloved Converse sneakers—fans managed to recognize them walking the street, anyway, and began circling around them for autographs and pictures. One girl,

AJ had enjoyed, even reveled a little in the attention, but Punk, though he put on the smiling face as he fielded one request after another, was in no mood to deal with this right now.

All he had on his mind was getting through this potential mine field and working his way into his girlfriend's family's good graces. He could tell that it meant a lot to her, as it was all she could talk about during the last few days. He could hear her chattering in Spanish to her mother over the phone, see her typing away furiously to her brother via email as she confirmed his imminent arrival…yet she ducked away in a quick blur whenever she spoke to who Punk presumed was her father on her cell phone.

Her father…now that was a challenge that he wasn't looking forward to. Asking a diehard Chicago Cubs fan like Punk to break bread with a hardcore Yankees fan was a bitter pill to swallow…but for AJ, he was willing to do that.

Even if there was a chance that he might not make it out of this one alive.

"Okay, so…anything else I should be up to speed on?" asked the Chicago native about 15 minutes later as they rounded the corner down Franklin Avenue, the street where AJ's family resided.

"Mmm, nothing that comes to mind," AJ said as she ran down her mental list of Things to Remember. "You've got the chocolate cake, my mom's favorite, so that should get you in good graces with her. My brother Robert will just be glad you stopped by. Again, just focus on my dad—that's the Main Event of the day."

"Ah, yes, Daddy Dearest," Punk smirked, before he realized that AJ omitted one crucial detail. "By the way…is he a big man?"

AJ chuckled at the slightly apprehensive look on her boyfriend's face as they opened the small gate outside the Lee-Mendez residence.

"Aww, look at you, all nervous. It's cute, actually. And no, he's about your height. But remember…he does carry a gun."

Though he managed to chuckle at her joke, Punk gulped nervously at the thought. He might have had claim to the title of Best in the World…but that didn't mean he liked guns. _At all_.

"Hope they didn't make too big a deal over this little visit," Punk said, with a touch of wishful thinking.

AJ waved off that thought as she rang the doorbell. "Nah, it's just another Sunday afternoon. No reason for them to go overboard."

No sooner did those words leave her mouth than did the door fly open, revealing a pretty middle-aged brunette woman at the door…no doubt AJ's mother…and about 40 to 50 other people that Punk had never seen before.

"SURPRISE!" came the loud roar of the guests, a festive rainbow-colored party banner hung above the mantle of the home reading "Welcome Home, April!"

Staring at the sea of strangers in front of him-particularly a mid-sized, barrel-chested man with his arms folded across that massive chest and a none-too-friendly look on his face...yeah, with my luck, that has to be AJ's dad, the WWE Champion realized-Punk nervously swallowed. _Oh, no, nothing overboard at all. No pressure...oh, boy…_

The older-looking brunette stepped forward and swept AJ into a hug. "Ah, _mi hijita_!(my little girl) Oh, my goodness, I missed you so much!"

Punk watched as a peaceful smile crept over AJ's face as she returned the hug. "Hi, ma," she laughed quietly.

Mrs. Lee-Mendez stepped back for a moment, but kept a grip on AJ'S shoulders. "You look good! A lot healthier than the last time you were here."

No kidding, was the thought in AJ's mind. She hadn't seen her family since a little before WrestleMania, when she was still with Daniel. Back when his coldness and short temper and controlling attitude were starting to take their toll on her emotionally. She was a mess over it back, talking very sparsely with her family during the one weekend she was there and retreating to her room, where she would shut herself in, playing video games and laying silently in her bed for hours, consumed with loneliness and miserable thoughts that she was somehow to blame for the messy state of her relationship with Daniel.

The person she was then was a complete 180 from who she was now, happy and healthy and confident, with a little help from her favorite resident of Chicago.

"Well, being happy now can do that," AJ laughed at her mother's doting concern, even though Punk could tell that she savored it.

As he saw Mrs. Lee-Mendez's eyes flicker to him-familiar amaretto-colored eyes hauntingly similar to those of AJ's-Punk felt himself tense for a moment, before he saw the knowing, and slightly mischievous, glint in the older woman's orbs.

"And would this handsome young man have anything to do with that?" she pressed AJ, but keeping her warm gaze on Punk, who felt his muscles relax a little.

The young Divas Champion smiled shyly at Punk, a gesture that made the right corner of his mouth lift up in delight. "Maybe a little," she replied coyly. "Pun…uh, Phillip, I'd like you to meet my mother, Isabella."

At that point, Punk's manners kicked in, bowing his head politely. "Mrs. Lee-Mendez, it's an honor to finally meet you. I can definitely see where AJ gets her beauty from."

The woman laughed in amusement. "Oh, I think I like him," she winked to AJ, who laughed in response, though she was ecstatic that her mom and Punk had gotten off on the right foot."

In his eagerness, another uncharacteristic thing for him, Punk slightly bobbled the bakery box in his hands before he managed to extend it to AJ's mother. "I heard that chocolate cake is a favorite of yours, right? We found a really nice bakery in Paramus that makes what I'm told is the best chocolate cake in New Jersey. Hope you like it."

The giddy smile on Mrs. Lee-Mendez's face told the whole story. "I take it back—I _know_ I like him!" With that, she reached up and pulled a surprised Punk into a hug, which it took him a moment to return, a relieved smile on his face matching the one AJ sported. _Okay, not a bad way to start things…_

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a larger man, perhaps more than a few years older than AJ, start to make his way through the crowd of people greeting AJ. He was tall,, head shaved nearly bald, with a clean cut face, and a very familiar family resemblance to him. Judging by the military uniform on him, the words "Lee-Mendez" stiched onto the front of it, Punk could only guess that this was the famous big brother "Robert" that AJ had mentioned to him in the past.

"There's my little squirt!" he greeted enthusiastically, lifting a laughing AJ off her feet in a huge bear hug.

"_Robbie_!" AJ giggled in joy. "Oh my God! You look great!"

"Yeah, I just got back yesterday," Robert smiled as he put her down. "Got myself a two-week leave. And just enough time to kick your butt in 'Street Fighter 4.''"

AJ snorted disbelievingly. "As if! You know once I get Chun-Li, I'm unstoppable."

"Maybe, but my man Ryu packs a punch, baby girl," he grinned, gently pounding on her shoulder, to which she playfully punched him back.

As Punk watched the interaction with AJ and her brother, he couldn't help but smile a little. It was funny how AJ and he came from almost similar backgrounds, but their family lives were night and day. She had a mom who loved her, a dad who he knew her to be close with…a brother she actually _spoke_ to, unlike him. Hell, he hadn't even _spoken_ to his older brother, Mike, in 12 years. Having as little as she did, AJ still had more than he ever had.

True, he had his best friend Chez, and her sister Shaylene and their mother, RaeLisa, who adopted him into their family, and he loved them with all of his heart. But even if he wouldn't admit it consciously, there was always that part of him, buried deep down inside, that awkward teenage "Space Boy" he was growing up, that would have given almost anything to have, even for a moment, what AJ had to come home to whenever she wanted.

His thoughts were interrupted as Robert's gaze locked with his, a kind of awestruck look in his eyes. "Wow," the soldier gulped. "I knew he was coming, squirt, but part of me didn't really believe you, until now."

"Right," AJ quickly began the introductions. "Phillip, this is my brother, Robert. Robert, meet Ph-"

"CM Punk," Robert said disbelievingly. "Wow….uh, _wow_!" As a smiling Punk extended his hand, Robert began to babble in starstruck fanboy glee. "This is such an honor to meet you, Mr. Punk, I'm a _huge_ fan of yours! I've watched, like, every single match you ever took part in, you're a-_mazing_, sir! Even the IWF stuff with you against Chris Hero, those were some of my favorite matches!"

With a smile, Punk smoothly returned, "No, Robert, the honor is mine. You guys are fighting for our freedom out there. You're the amazing ones."

A beaming Robert's hand brushed across the name on his uniform. "Sergeant Robert Lee-Mendez, age 28, of the 104th Infantry Division, U.S. Army, at your service, sir."

Punk liked him already. He was a little enthusiastic, but he was getting a good vibe off the kid. "At ease, soldier," he chuckled. "So you're a wrestling fan, eh? We're gonna get along just fine, dude."

With a goofy smile, Robert nudged AJ with his elbow. "CM Punk called me '_dude_.' How awesome is that?"

"Maybe he meant 'doofus,'" AJ smirked at him, prompting the two siblings to exchange playful slaps, AJ's tongue darting out at him.

Heavy footsteps soon followed as that large, barrel-chested man finally stepped forward, the previous stern look on his face gone as he beamed at AJ.

"_Hi, Daddy_!" AJ greeted in joy as she glomped onto the bigger man, who laughed as he wrapped his massive arms around AJ's tiny little body.

The first thing Punk noticed was how big he was. Huge, in fact.

Standing at about 6'3", a good 250, maybe 260 pounds, with short dark hair, a heavy-set face and a thick, bushy mustache, he was a human block of a man. He wasn't muscular, per se, but his physical stature was pretty imposing, and such a stark contrast to his tiny little wife. Putting them together, Punk couldn't picture an odder looking couple than this hulk of a man and the sweet, petite little woman that bore AJ's resemblance.

_But, like the old saying goes, opposites attract_, Punk realized, his eyes drifting to AJ. _I mean, look at us._

"Ah, _mi hija_, my beautiful baby! Welcome home, I missed you," the man laughed in hearty joy.

"I missed you, too, _papi_," she murmured into his shirt, pulling back. "How's your back?"

"Ah, you know that's gotten better now," he shrugged it off. "All those exercises with those weights are doing good. And you were right, that yoga stuff made a huge difference. I feel stronger than I've ever been."

A relieved sigh escaped AJ's lips. "Good."

Punk's smile faded as soon as he saw the man's expression cool as he laid eyes on him. Already, he felt the insecure teenage punker he used to be recoil a little, despite the fact that he could probably take him. After all, he'd beaten up much bigger and much stronger guys before. But that wasn't the kind of battle that Punk was here to win tonight.

"Ah…so, this is him," Mr. Lee-Mendez said coolly, his eyes raking over Punk, as if he were some old adversary.

_Wow, I'm not here five minutes, and the guy looks like he wants to tear my head off,_ Punk groaned inwardly. _Great first impression, Brooks. Good job._

Warily eying both men, AJ was quick to try to break the ice. "Uh, dad, this is Pun…er, _Phillip_," she caught herself, realizing that the name 'Punk' probably wouldn't go over so well with her father. "Phillip, this is, uh, this is my dad, Luis Lee-Mendez."

Punk nodded in greeting, before extending his hand. "It's an honor to finally meet you, sir. Your daughter talks about you a lot."

The way Luis stared at his hand for a few moments made the street kid in Punk flair up. Where he came from, not shaking a man's hand was the ultimate sign of disrespect. Yet, after a moment, Luis extended his own massive hand towards Punk, squeezing it in his firm grip.

"Well, that's funny, because _my_ daughter hasn't spoken to me very much about _you_," her father replied in his even-toned voice, a definite "Papa Bear" vibe coming off the man whose only daughter Punk was dating. "Well, not the important things…like how old you are, where you're from, even what your last name is."

"Uh, 33, Chicago, and Brooks, sir," Punk tried to play it cool, the mature, understanding boyfriend side of him trying to maintain his politeness while the rebellious part of Punk trying to show this old dude that he wasn't intimidated so easily.

Sensing Punk's discomfort, AJ tried to come to his aid. "Uh, daddy, you _know_ I told you some of that when we talked last week," she said poignantly.

That was something that AJ was sure of. She figured the more that she could come clean with to her dad, the easier it would be for Punk to have a fighting chance. This was just her beloved _papi's _way of giving her boyfriend the third degree. She only hoped that her poor Punkers could behave himself for one day.

"Ah, yes," Luis "suddenly" remembered. "The one from Chicago. I worked there for a week once a few years back. I never liked that city. Too cold. And that baseball team, the Cubs…" he snorted, distastefully. "What a joke. They're terrible."

AJ's eyes widened, completely caught off-guard by that. "_Daddy_!"

She knew how much of a diehard Cubs fan Punk was. Saying the Cubs stink to his face was almost as bad as talking smack about his friends and family. And to insult his beloved Chicago? That was a cardinal sin. As she saw the thin, tight smile line form across Punk's lips, see him snort a short burst of breath from his nostrils as he obviously tried to hold in his temper, she only prayed that he could try and rise above the obvious baiting.

_C'mon, baby, be the bigger man_, she pleaded silently.

"Well, I respect your opinion, sir, even though I don't agree with it," Punk nodded. "Chicago's a special town, but it's not for everyone. And as for the Cubs, well, they've had their moments."

The WWE's resident "Crazy Chick" was just about to breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that Punk let cooler heads prevail...

And yet, because he was Punk, he couldn't resist one little dig. "But not everyone can buy talent that only gets you eliminated in the first round like, say…the Yankees?"

The surprised murmurs and a few silent "_oohs_" were heard from the room, as AJ's mother's eyes widened nervously, while Robert's jaw dropped.

And AJ?

The audible slap of her right hand meeting her forehead told the whole story as she cradled her dismayed head in her palm.

Everyone knew how much Luis loved the Yankees. In fact, he had a small flag bearing his team's iconic interlocking "NY" firmly planted above the door. To insult the Yankees in front of him was almost sacrilegious.

_Six minutes_, she lamented inwardly. _I ask you to behave yourself for just one dinner, and you can't even last six minutes, you __**asshat**__!_

His brow creased, the narrowed stare of Luis's brown eyes meet Punk's, who merely smiled innocently, as if oblivious to what he just said.

AJ's father turned slowly to AJ's, asking one terse question in Spanish. "_Este es el novio __**tuyo**__, April?_ (This is _**your**_ boyfriend, April?)

Feeling defensive, and maybe a little rebellious, AJ didn't flinch, her own deep brown eyes locked with her fathers while she calmly, yet challengingly responded, "_Si, papa. Es mi novio. Tienes un problema con eso?_ (Yes, Dad, he is my boyfriend. Do you have a problem with that?)

Punk cursed the times he slept through Spanish class in high school, as maybe it would have helped him understand what the hell they were saying. But from the clipped tones of their discussion, he probably guessed they weren't swapping family recipes.

After a few tense moments, Luis merely chuckled. "No. No problem at all," he calmly replied. He turned his eyes to Punk. "Welcome to our home, Phillip. I'm sure we'll have…_much_…to talk about." Punk would have been remiss if he didn't note the ominous tone in his voice.

To his credit, Punk didn't falter. "I'm sure we do...sir."

To Robert, the patriarch of the Lee-Mendez family gestured. "Get our guest a plate, _Roberto_. I'm sure he's hungry." Looking around, he called for the party to get back underway. "Hey, what happened to the music? _Vamanos, vamanos, musica_!"

With that, Spanish music began blaring throughout the New Jersey home as the guests happily and loudly began laughing, dancing and gossiping among themselves.

As Mr. Lee-Mendez headed back to the kitchen, Punk and AJ could hear him mutter, "At least he's taller than that last idiot she dated."

Off Punk's chuckle at the reference to Daniel Bryan, AJ frowned at him. Sighing, Punk began to backpeddle. "Now, AJ…babe…you know I was trying to be ni-"

"Hold out your hand," she calmly interrupted him.

_Okay, wasn't expecting that_. "Uh…excuse me?" Punk asked questioningly.

"You heard me, Philip Jack Brooks, hold out your hand," she repeated, more commanding than requesting, her dark brown pools dead serious.

Swallowing nervously, Punk extended his right hand. She took hold of it…and gently rapped him across the knuckles like a displeased school teacher.

"_Bad_ Punkers," she smirked, teasingly. "_Very_ bad."

He couldn't help but to chuckle, a little relieved. "Well, maybe I should be punished," his tone grew suggestive, husky in that way that made her knees weak.

"If you're a good boy…maybe later," she winked, a naughty spark in her eyes that charged him up in a way that only she could. "But please, for the love of Pikachu, just try to behave yourself tonight? This is _really_ important to me."

"Okay, babe, no worries," he assured her. "I'll be on my best behavior." Off her unconvinced stare, he sighed. "Starting now."

At that, the sprightly little Diva grinned, gently rubbing his hand. "That's my little trooper."

AJ's mother came up to them. "I'll go get you a plate, Phillip," she smiled warmly.

"I'd appreciate that, Ms. Lee-Mendez," Punk smiled charmingly. "And may I say, I'm very eager to try some of those famous imp-padas that AJ talks about."

The woman chuckled at his butchered Spanish. "_Empanadas_, you mean." Beaming. "And I think I have a plate just for you." And with that, she whirled around towards the kitchen.

Turning to a smiling AJ with a shrug, Punk grinned, "Well, at least your mom likes me."

He got caught offguard with a slap on the back by Robert, who laughed heartily. "C'mon, you guys, let's grab a bit to eat. And maybe after, we can play a round of 'Call of Duty.'"

AJ pouted, not at all pleased with the sudden change on the gaming menu. "But what happened to 'Street Fighter?'"

"After what just happened? I think my man here might need something where he can practice to duck and cover. She told you about his gun collection, right?" he chuckled, drawing a horrified expression from Punk.

"_Robbie_! C'mon, don't tease him like that," AJ chided.

The soldier held up his hands innocently. "Hey, it's cool. He doesn't keep them loaded…well, not the ones I know of."

Off his chuckle, AJ rolled her eyes, but laughed as she swatted at her brother as he led the three to the kitchen

Sarcastically laughing while walking, Punk muttered one thing under his breath. "That's not funny."

* * *

TBC

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**Next: Punk meets the Parents, Part 2! Punk and AJ's father haven't gotten off on the right foot. So, what happens when they sit down for a little man-to-man talk…in a room full of guns? Well, that would be telling, wouldn't it?**

Happy Holidays, everyone! Just thought I'd give you a little treat just in time for the holidays. Happy freakin' whatever it is you celebrate!

But whatever, I digress. Lol Thanks to those who reviewed: weaselette01, AJPunkForever, MyChaosTheory, RKO4Life, my girl Red Foxy, MarryTheNight25, Deadliest Priestess, DemonicXaliv, Maizeandbluekid, Kelzo85, XxPunkleexX, RonRon 10 and the two guests. You guys rock!

I am sooo sorry for the delay, but my new job has me working insane hours, so I'm freaking tired all the time now. But don't worry, I am still pressing along and I aim to finish this story. It will be finished, trust me.

After the next chapter, things should kick right back into the action. And trust me, things are about to get turbulent for our favorite couple. So, enjoy this little calm before the storm moment with some holiday cocoa as we bask in the glow of the best couple in the world!

My thoughts on this Dolph Ziggler thing…I despise it, but admittedly, it's not as revolting as AJ and Cena (thank the Lord that's over.) Although, it makes absolutely NO sense; it's a crackship by the very definition of the word. The guy called her trash, called her weak and pathetic, spent the whole year talking shit about her…and then the writers expect us to buy it? Uh, no. Sorry, but no.

If they were going to turn AJ heel, for maximum effect, they should have gone with a heel Punklee. Could you imagine a heel Punk with the Shield backing him, plus Heyman and top it off, AJ? The power, the magnitude, the dominance…the hot make-out scenes between the two…would have meant so much more (not to mention, it would have rivaled, maybe even topped Lita/Edge or Stephanie/Triple H.) Although, I strongly believe that they were initially thinking about doing that in the early fall, judging from the scenes between the two during that time. Well, we can dream.

And besides, since AJ is doing a program with Eve for Wrestlemania, I give this until Royal Rumble, then AJ and Ziggs part ways, and Eve and AJ can begin the feud we've all been waiting for. Ziggler is better off with Ric Flair as his manager, anyway.

And strangely enough, I'm calling it: Punk will beat the Rock at the Rumble. Dwayne can't make all those shows in between the Rumble and Mania, so Punk will have the biggest victory of his career in January. **#BestInTheWorld**

**Spotlight Fic(s) of the Week: Read "Crazy is the New Sane" by White Firebird. As AJ's world becomes unhinged following the breakup with Daniel Bryan, she needs a hero now more than ever. Could a tattooed Straight Edge Superstar with a loud mouth and a scarred heart be the hero she needs? It has excellent characterization, an amazing plot pace, a very real, raw look at each of the characters and is packed with suspense, drama and romance. A perfect pick for anyone looking for some Punklee action! Read it! Love it! Review It! **

**Read "In Fate's Hands" by MyChaosTheory. The sequel to my favorite all-time Punklee story, End of Heartache, takes Punk and AJ on a battle with an opponent even Punk may not be able to beat…prison and the legal system. Can our hero beat the rap? Will their love survive this gravest of tests? Trust me, it's worth the read. And the reviews. **

Well, that's all for now. I'll be back very soon with another chapter. Check out my Facebook page on my profile page, hit me up on Twitter, and make sure you subscribe to and recommend fics in my Punklee fanfiction community, "PunkleeNation." And be sure to check out **"Breathe Again,**" my prequel to "Hard to Handle" co-written by the lovely and talented **AmandaEchelon**, starring Sheamus, Kaitlyn and Dolph Ziggler! (with a little Punklee action on the side!)

Peace out, guys, and have a very happy holidays!

* * *

**#PunkleeNation**

**#Punklee4Ever**

**#Core4**

**#Happy Holidays**

**#TrollsAreOnlyLosersTooWeirdT oGetDates ;)**

* * *

**-Jean-theGuardian**


	21. PREVIEW

Hey, everybody!

Hope you're having a Happy Holidays tonight! Working on the next chapter now, should be up around the weekend. In the meantime, figured I'd leave you with a little taste of what's to come with a Facebook Exclusive Sneak Preview!

This one drops a few little hints about what's coming in future chapters. I'm thinking about doing this more regularly, so remember to like me on Facebook for special previews, review and tell me what you think ;) Well, enjoy!

* * *

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 16 - Prologue  
**

**-  
Flash Forward - ****December 2012 **

* * *

**[DVD Extra from "CM Punk: Best In the World" DVD]**

* * *

**Excerpt Title : A Punker Finds Love**

* * *

**[Cut to pan shot of photo of AJ and Punk, AJ jumping on Punk from behind in a piggy back ride in a carnival in New Jersey]  
**  
**SHEAMUS, World Heavyweight Champion, Friend(smiling): **If ye'd 'ave known CM Punk as long as I have, and I've known him for about a good three years now, he would've been the last person ye'd expect to form a solid, steady relationship. That wasn't his style, never was.

**LITA, Ex-Girlfriend**: I've known him for a pretty long time now, and I can say as not a "bitter ex-girlfriend" but as someone who's a close friend of his and cares about him, that he just wasn't really boyfriend material. (laughing) It's not a bad thing, but Punk…well, Phil…is about as driven a person as I've ever known or met in this business.

[**Cut to shot of Punk overlooking a Chicago street alone from the balcony of his high rise apartment]  
**  
He wants to succeed _sooo_bad, be considered the best at his job above everything else, that he just doesn't have time for anything other than that. That means canceling birthdays, bailing on dates, not calling for a while when he's on the road. It's not that he's a bad boyfriend, it's just that he's such a dedicated person to what he does that he just can't focus on anything else.

"**VIXXY", Ex-girlfriend**: If I had to use one word to describe our relationship, it would probably be…"explosive?" (laughs) He's a sweetheart, and to this day, he's one of my best friends, but it was definitely a "Work First, Play Later" mentality with him all the time. He was always putting getting the gold belt on his waist ahead of putting a gold ring on a girl's finger. And, like I said, Punk is such a great friend, but we were definitely better off as _just_ friends. If we stayed together longer, we…_probably_would have ended up killing each other. (laughs, snorts)

**LAYLA, Friend, Co-Worker**: I've actually known Punk for about six years, we came into the company around the same time, and first off, you can't ask for a better friend. He's loyal, he's funny, people have a good time around him, except when he's being an ass (giggles). But he changed relationships about as often as John [Cena] would change T-shirt colors. (laughs)

**KOFI KINGSTON, Friend, Co-Worker:**I just couldn't keep track with the man. (chuckles) One minute he was dating Maria, then it was Lita, then it was Mickie James, then it was Beth Phoenix, then it was some old girlfriend of his from Chicago…he wasn't really with one girl for too long, I just don't think they could keep him interested long enough. It was always the job, his friends, family and hobbies with him, that was his life, it was simple, and I think he liked it that way. So, I don't think any of us, including Punk, could have seen AJ coming if she was 100 feet tall from six feet away.

[**Cut to clip of AJ and Punk talking in the hallway the RAW before Over the Limit**]

**WILLIAM REGAL, Mentor, Friend**: Romance in this business is usually very fleeting. And the lives we live on the road make it hard to sustain such a thing, the "true love" ideal. And yet, when I see those two together, April and Phillip, and this is coming from someone who has known Phillip, trained him and been a friend of his since even before he worked for WWE, I'd be hard-pressed to find any other word that describes them more fittingly.

**COLT CABANA, Friend:**(smiling) She just makes him happy, man. You can see it in his face, you can feel it. He can be the same snarky, kinda short-tempered, kinda smug loveable jerk that I've come to know and make fun of, but then she walks into a room, and it's like…(makes a loud exhaling sound while moving his hands down and away, as if decompressing)…it's like he's this different guy. He's smiling a lot more now than he used to, he's laughing, he's more relaxed, he's just…he's just freakin' happy, y'know? (laughs)

[**Cut to photo taken of Punk hugging AJ from behind in front of Kofi, Sheamus, Layla, Kaitlyn, William Regal and Alex Riley hanging out at a bar after the show in Toronto, Ontario, Canada**]

**KAITLYN, AJ's Best Friend**: I think it's weird how…I don't know if 'connected' is the word, but…yeah, you know what? Let's go with 'connected.' (laughing) They like the same comics, they like the same TV shows, they like the same video games, neither of them smoke, neither of them drink or do drugs, they're both sarcastic to the point of almost abusing it (more laughter), but they're just…they're good for each other. Especially in AJ's case.

[**Cut to home video of AJ planting a kiss on the cheek of a laughing Punk during his birthday with friends at a restaurant in Oklahoma City**]

I don't think I've ever seen another girl, another human being care, or love someone as deeply, as completely, or _be_as completely dedicated to someone else as she is to Punk. But at the same time, he didn't just let her make him her whole world.

He challenged her to go and make her own mark, tackle her own obstacles, become her own person, and she has, and she's so much stronger now than she was at any point that I've known her. She's more independent, she's smarter, she's tougher and she doesn't take anything lying down, and I think that Punk had more than a little bit to do with that.

**ZACK RYDER, Friend, Co-Worker**: (smiling) It's funny, because anyone can see it on his face how happy he is around her. And this is the same dude we've known for years, he was kind of a player, and now, he's all love struck over AJ. Tiny, geeky, 95-pounds soaking wet little AJ. (laughs, smiling teasingly) So, me and the guys give him a hard time over it now, but he just laughs it off, he doesn't care. In his mind, it's like, "Okay, make fun of me. [Bleep] it, I don't care. I'm happy, that's all that matters."

**JOHN CENA**: I've never been particularly close with Punk. Um, it just worked out that way. We're just very different personalities, and we just never clicked like that. But I respect him, I can honestly say that I kinda like the guy, most, _ehh_, part of the time. (smirks) And even _I_can see how much of a difference AJ has made in his life. (chuckling, shaking his head) He's just a better person now. A little less tense, I can definitely see him smiling more these days than he was last year.

[**Cut to clip of AJ taking down Tamina with a headscissors during in-ring action, then cut to close-up of AJ's scowl as she's facing off with Vickie Guerrero during in-ring segment**]

And I can see a little bit of him rubbing off on her, too. She's a lot snappier now. If she's got an opinion, she's not afraid to tell it to your face. If she believes in something, she'll fight for it. Remind you of anybody? (laughing)

**LAYLA**: I can say...unequivocally...that you'd be at a challenge to find two people any more in love or any more protective of the other than Phil and April are with each other. (warm smile) He would do just about anything for her, and I don't think there's any limit as to how far she would go if it meant protecting him. That's been something that's been both a blessing and a curse for them over the last few months, at times.

[**Clip of AJ and Punk kissing after John Laurinaitis segment**]

**SHEAMUS**: Would he do anything for her? Probably, yeah. (laughs) He's one of the most together guys I've ever met, and he's his own man. If he doesn't want to do something, come hell or high water, he'll stick to his guns. When it comes to AJ, though, he can't think straight. He's kind of stupid with that, actually. (a hearty laugh) He's in love, whaddaya want from him?

**KOFI**: (laughs) I remember that the night before he had to go meet AJ's parents, he must have broken about six different speeding limits in four different counties all to get to this one little bakery in New Jersey which was rated the highest among chocolate cake makers. He was, like, "We've got to get this! We've got to get there before it closes! We've only got another two hours and we're still 50 miles out!" (smiling) And I remember going, "What? Dude…it's just a cake. Buy one at a bakery nearby tomorrow on the way." But he wouldn't hear about it. "No, no! It's gotta be this one, she likes chocolate cake, this could be a deal-breaker, I've gotta get her parents to like me!" (laughs hysterically)

This is the same guy who once went through six girls in six months one time, and now, he's freaking out about a CAKE! He wanted to impress that girl's parents so bad. Punk believes in preparation, for everything. If you plan it right, it'll go right. After all the preparation, all the planning, it's just his luck that the one guy he works the hardest to try and win over, AJ's dad…is the one guy that gets off on the wrong foot on. (smiles knowingly) Needless to say, what happened next was interesting…

[_**Flashback**_]

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

Well, that's a wrap for now. More on the way soon! Remember to like and leave a comment. Look for the next chapter this weekend!

* * *

**#PunkleeNation  
#HappyHolidays**

**#PeoplePower1SecretlyWantsMe (Why else would a dude constantly send messages to another dude like an obsessed ex?****) lol #StopFlirtingLoser **

* * *

**Later!**

**-Jean-theGuardian**


	22. Part 16 - Punk Meets the Parents, Part 2

**Hard to Handle**

**Part 16- Punk Meets the Parents, Part 2**

* * *

**Six Months Earlier- Sunday, June 10, 2012**

**7:47 p.m. **

**Two blocks from Lee-Mendez Home**

**Union City, New Jersey**

* * *

To say that the last few hours were an eye-opening experience for Punk were putting it rather mildly.

In that span of time, which had somehow slipped into _forever_ territory, in between watching his every word and turning up the charm full-time, Punk had seen a very interesting side of AJ that he had only seen glimpses of in pictures.

He met her infamous dog, Nacho Cheese, the other love of her life, as AJ so glibly called the scrappy-looking Chihuahua that growled at Punk when he got too close to his beloved owner at first. Punk managed to win over the protective little canine after AJ taught him how to scratch just the right spot under the tiny animal's left ear.

After a brief delay, AJ's sister, Erica, arrived at the party after hurrying back from a legal briefing at her law firm, where she had just started worked as a lawyer. When Punk had found out that AJ's sister had practiced law, he hadn't expected too positive a review from Erica. After all, Punk reckoned, he probably looked like most of the guys she probably had to defend in court.

To his relief, Erica was quite taken by him. He'd overheard her whispering to AJ that she was right, he _was_ cute, to their fits of laughter and mischievous shoving one other.

Despite her stuffy legal background, Erica turned out to be well-versed in indy rock music. Punk and Erica engrossed themselves for five to ten minutes over whether Cold War Kids or The National were the better band before an annoyed AJ had to re-divert his attention back to the rest of the family.

Katie and Jenny, AJ's two lifelong friends, had also grown up wrestling fans and knew full well who Punk was. They spent much of the evening basically hanging at his every word, and Punk, ever the ham, played it up as they asked him to recall his epic main event match at Money In the Bank with John Cena for the WWE Championship the year before, to their fangirl-ish delight. AJ only smiled and rolled her eyes at Punk, knowing full well that he was kind of enjoying this.

Her mother had taken the time to show him around the home, showing off old pictures of AJ from her childhood... her middle school years, her high school homecoming pictures, college graduation, none of which an annoyed AJ appreciated, as she claimed she looked like a spaz in each picture. Punk assured her, dutifully, that she looked cute, bringing a smile to her face as she hooked his arm like he was her favorite action figure.

Robert was pretty easy-going, though intense when it came to his video games. The two of them went at it pretty hard playing Street Fighter IV, Punk beating Robert just by a nose every time with Sagat. AJ beat both of them fairly easily using, of course, Chun-li, her character of choice.

Yet, all of that was just a warm-up for the event of the evening, when her father Luis beckoned Punk away to his study amid Punk's chatting with Katie and Jenny for a moment of man-to-man talk.

Which led them to this moment, with Punk sitting across from Luis's desk, the large man staring at him intently, dark brown eyes scrutinizing every inch of the tattooed Straight Edge Superstar while Punk sat back in his chair with a pleasant, yet serious expression. Friendly, but not intimidated. Bending, but not breaking.

This went on for a few painful, long moments. The feeling coming to mind for Punk was the sense of being under the hot lamp in the vice station downtown like in those cheesy, over-the-top cop movies.

"So..." Punk broke the silence. "Some weather we're having, huh?"

"I like it." Luis countered, coolly. "Never was a fan of cold weather."

"Right." Punk merely nodded, patiently. He probably should have expected a terse response. "Of course."

He knew he was getting the third degree, but Punk was cool with it. _I'm a big boy, I can take it, no problem._

"Although I could see how you'd like the cooler weather being from _Chicago_, and all." Luis snorted, the word _Chicago_ coming off his lips like it was a soiled word, unworthy to touch his lips.

Punk's patience was starting to feel much thinner. He felt his teeth gnash a bit in his tightly smiling mouth, the Straight Edge Superstar counting backwards to keep from saying something that he would regret.

Taking a moment, Punk decided he might have a better time of it changing the subject. "So, uh, AJ tells me you're a security guard."

"Armed personnel." Luis corrected, somewhat proudly. "I work for a bank. Just got promoted last month to Senior Supervising Officer."

"Congratulations!" Punk offered, sincerely.

"Thank you." Luis nodded in kind, though he didn't so much as crack a smile as he kept a stern eye on Punk. "So… I can see that you like tattoos."

Punk cringed inwardly at that. Sure, his long sleeves and fancy suit covered up the majority of his ink, but there was little he could do to cover up the tattoo under his left ear. Not that he would have, either way. That tattoo was very special to him.

It represented the sports numbers of the jerseys some of the closest people in his life wore when he was growing up, from his childhood chum Chez to his sister Shaylene to even his brother, Mike…although if he had known that his screw-up, college dropout gambling addict of an older brother was about to steal thousands of dollars from the fledgling wrestling company that Punk and his friends founded after high school only a few months after he got the friggin' tattoo, he might have had second thoughts about adding Mike to that list twelve years ago.

Shaking that thought off, Phil smiled ruefully. "Uh, well, yes I do, sir. I've always been about expression, and tattoos are a big part of expressing who you are."

The distasteful look on the face of the older man did not give Punk any good feelings whatsoever. "I've known some people with tattoos. Usually, they've been gang members or criminals. The only thing that they've expressed is that they're not very useful to the world."

_Strike two_, Punk thought to himself in annoyance as he felt his hands tighten into balled knots. He really wanted to make sure that he kept his promise to AJ about being on his best behavior, but it was clear that her dad wasn't in the mood to cooperate, and at the rate he was pushing, Punk's temper was only hanging by a thread.

No, the fibers of the thread, actually.

"To be honest, I never saw the appeal of painting your body up with disfiguring marks." Luis continued. "It always seemed to me like it was such a…feminine…thing to do."

_And that's strike three,_Punk decided with finality.

"Okay, look..." Punk's voice came out with a forced edge of politeness, but with the clear undertone of a man who had been pushed to the edge of his civility. "We're both big boys here, Luis, so let's just cut the bullshit and get to the chase. You don't like me, I get that. You see the tattoos and the hair and the piercings, and you probably think I look like some inmate from lock down, even though I paid a pretty penny for this suit. But that's okay, you're not the first guy whose daughter I've dated who can't see past the outside and look to the man whose inside. I can respect that. If I ever have a girl, I'll probably be a 'Shotgun Daddy' myself. But just to let you know, the only reason I've sat this long and taken this much shit from you without offering back a response of my own is because your daughter, my girlfriend…someone I love and care for…asked me to try and make a good impression on you. Unlike the last jackass who dated her, I love to see her happy."

He was starting to roll, he could feel it, and as much as the little voice in his head told him he should pull back, the filter between his brain and his mouth at that moment completely dissolved.

"But if you think for one second that I'm gonna sit back any longer and let you walk all over me like a doormat after I came here with nothing but good intentions, then, pal, you are sorely…_sorely_…mistaken."

There wasn't any fury or anger in his delivery. It was merely a stern, calm tone but with an edge of warning in there that most men would be wary of crossing.

Luis, however, did not look intimidated. After his busy eyebrows raised in mild amusement and some surprise, the man actually smirked. "Well…at least you don't waste time mincing your words."

Punk shrugged, offhandedly. "Yeah, I get that a lot." He replied, while cringing at the thought that he had probably just torpedoed his only chance of making a positive impression on AJ's dad out of the water.

To his surprise, the older man sighed, almost regretfully. "Fair enough. I suppose I have been somewhat…stern tonight with you…"

_Ya think?_was the thoughtthat crossed Punk's mind at that moment.

Standing up from his seat, Luis walked towards the nearby window and looked to the outside, where AJ was giggling as she shared a laugh with Robert and their friends over some private joke. Catching sight of AJ, Punk smiled. The night breeze brushed back the locks of her hair in a soft caress as her eyes glowed with mirth while being around family and friends. She looked so relaxed, so free, beautiful…a vision…

The sound of her father's voice broke Punk from his thoughts. "I don't think I need to tell you that I'm protective of my youngest daughter. She's my baby. Always will be until the day my heart can no longer beat."

"I know the feeling." Punk muttered absently as his eyes drifted to AJ, warranting her father to clear his throat. _Loudly_.

"Uh, sorry, go on." Punk smiled sheepishly.

After eyeing him for a moment, Luis continued, the tone in his Spanish-accented voice somber. "Unfortunately, I've never been able to provide much for her or my family. I can work, and work hard. _Muy duro._Always have, ever since I came to this country all those years ago with nothing but the clothes on my back and a dream for a better life in my heart. But times changed so fast that there was only so much money a man could make with just his hands and only a high school diploma to his name. And we suffered for it. My wife, my son, Erica…"

He shook his head sadly as he stared out the window at his youngest child, the apple of his eye. "April suffered most of all. I'd never say it aloud, but she's always been the smartest of the three of them. With her IQ and her grades, she could have been anything she wanted to be." His smile was proud, even glowing. "In fact, she was president of the National Honor Society when she was in high school. Did you know that?"

Punk raised his eyebrows in surprise at that revelation. He knew AJ was smart, as he'd catch her put in some surprising historical anecdotes when talking about comics or video games. Something about historical accuracy that she was always a stickler on, but he never knew his girlfriend was a brain.

"Really? I didn't know that." Punk smiled faintly, thinking to himself that he also had a little ammunition to tease her with later.

"Yes!" Luis nodded. "She got into all sorts of schools. Duke, Columbia, Harvard, Yale…with her talent, she could have been anything she wanted to be. Alas, money was tight. When my back went out for a few years, everything changed. I was too sick to work, and we had to survive on whatever we could find. Even with all the scholarships she won, it just wasn't enough. And as much as I wanted to help her, I couldn't. I thanked the Lord that she was able to get the loan she needed to go to her film school in New York."

A heavy sigh fell from his mouth as he looked down in disappointment. "So, when April decided to get into this business, this…_wrestling_…I wasn't exactly the most encouraging person around. It looked like such a tough business. Dirty. Painful. I knew how some people talk about it like it's a joke. The thought of my little girl being laughed at and ridiculed by _esos pendejos estupidos_ made my blood boil. But most of all, I was angry at myself. I felt like a failure for not being able to provide for my baby girl, driving her into such a business."

Punk wasn't exactly fluent with Spanish, but he knew _estupidos_ meant stupid ones. Frankly, he was inclined to agree with Luis. After all, Punk himself had been sneered at to his face dozens of times when a few jackasses who thought they were cool mocked his occupation of choice. Depending upon the scene and time, Punk chose to either ignore them, laugh at them or, on occasion, beat some respect into them when they decided to make the lethal mistake of trying to get physical with him.

It was just the way it was, and Punk made peace with that notion long ago. Unless you lived this crazy lifestyle, Punk knew people could never really understand the rush, the adrenaline, and the addiction that was being a professional wrestler.

"I argued with her, begged her to try and do something else, _anything_ else with her life, something with a future." Luis's voice caught Punk's attention, as he turned back to the elder man shaking his head, recalling that bitter argument. "Oh, but she was so stubborn, so _sure_ that this was what she wanted. She told me 'I'm sorry, _papi_, but this is my dream, and I'm doing it whether you like it or not.' I didn't think she was serious until she actually packed up her things and started going on the road for weeks at a time for those shows, those..."

"House shows." Punk corrected. "They're called house shows, sir."

Despite his previous annoyance with the older man for his treatment of him earlier, Punk could not help but to feel a little envious of AJ. Even never seeing eye-to-eye with her, it was clear that Mr. Lee-Mendez loved his daughter dearly, and with all of his heart. There was a time once where Punk, or rather, the young boy that Phil Brooks was growing up on the south side of Chicago, would have given anything in the world to have his own father care about him the way Luis did for AJ.

Instead, he got a father who was too absorbed in his own drinking and his personal demons to pay any mind to his family. His biological mother was no better, always lending the favored eyes to Mike, for some reason, instead of Phil, even through Mike took all the chances, all the opportunities he was handed by his parents and flushed them down the toilet thanks to his gambling addiction. Needless to say, growing up in the Brooks household was not the happiest time for young Phil, providing the impetus for the frustration that would manifest into CM Punk.

"Yes, those." Luis said dismissively, Phil brought back down to earth once again. "She wanted to do it so badly. I've never seen her want anything so badly, so desperately, that she would have gone over my head, over my wishes, to do it anyway. It took me some time to get used to the idea. I'm _still_ not used to it. Even though she makes more money from that job than any of us ever did, I can't shake the idea that she could do better. And after that last boyfriend she had, the short one with the ugly beard..."

"Daniel." Punk offered. _Figures that Bryan would have helped take a bad situation and make it worse_, he thought.

The elder man snorted in distaste at the mention of that name.

"Yes." He said with a little bit of a growl, before calming down."I've never seen April that upset over something…over someone. It broke my heart, seeing her so sad, so lonely. I saw some of the shows. The way he treated her..." He fumed quietly as his knuckles balled into hard knots. "It was enough to make me want to drive to those shows, find that little _cara de cabra_ and tear him limb from limb."

Punk frowned at those words. "_Cara_ what?" He asked, unsure of their meaning.

"Goat face." Luis explained. "It means goat face."

An amused smile and a brief snort of repressed laughter came from Punk. _Wow, so it isn't just me,_ Punk smirked. What Luis said did strike a chord in him, though. Even when he had his own problems with Jericho at the time, it made Punk's blood boil when he saw the way his ex-buddy Daniel— a man he once knew to be a gentleman and an all-around great guy—treated AJ backstage.

She was so gentle, so sweet…perfect, he realized in hindsight…and Daniel would yank her around by the arm like a rag doll backstage. He would angrily smack water bottles that she would bring him right out of her hands, making her jump in fright, if he had a bad night in the ring. He would berate her, yell and scream at her, call her terrible names that no man should ever say about his significant other. The few times Punk would catch the tail end of that, watching the way her soulful brown eyes would widen in hurt, the way she would lower her head in shame, how tears rolled down her face after Daniel stormed away and she held herself in comfort…honestly, it tortured him. Punk didn't get involved because he wasn't sure how to, and the fact that Daniel and he had so many years and so much history between them made it all the more complicated.

That was over now, he thankfully reminded himself. AJ was his girl now, and she was happy, and if Daniel so much as laid a finger on her, Punk vowed that he would make sure that his ex-friend would regret it for the rest of his life…all two seconds of them.

"I also know that feeling, sir," Punk nodded sincerely.

Luis turned those heavy boring brown eyes of his towards Punk, his expression more guarded. Grave, even. "That's why I don't want her dating any more of these wrestlers. No offense, _Señor_ Phillip, but after what happened with that last one, I don't think I can handle any more of seeing my daughter so broken over men like you who..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, timeout, Mr. Lee-Mendez!" Punk intervened, signalling with his hands for the older man to stop. "Look, I know where you're going with this, but trust me when I say that I'm _nothing_ like Daniel. I would never treat a woman the way he treated your daughter, and _especially_ not to her. For one thing, I've been raised to believe that women are to be respected, treasured. If you raise your hands to a woman, then you're not a man, you're a coward. The other thing…"

He paused, trying to find the right words to describe exactly what it was that he felt for the tiny little firecracker of a woman out there in the backyard who had come out of nowhere and entered his life and his heart with the suddenness and effect of an exploding dynamite stick.

"AJ…April, your daughter…is special to me." Punk said honestly as he gestured out the window to her, sitting by the table and smiling brightly as she became engrossed in a story from her older sister. "I've never met anyone like her before. She's so full of grace and innocence, but with so much…passion. So much fire and spirit. She makes me feel…a way I've never felt. Ever. When I see the way she smiles at me." Punk smiled faintly as he watched her dazzling grin shining amid the glow of the backyard lights and the moonlight. "It's like…like I'd give anything to make sure she never stops smiling like that."

Punk saw the way the older man's eyes studied him, searched for his intentions. Tried to see if there was any dishonesty in his words.

After a few uncomfortably long minutes, AJ's father nodded. "Well, my gut tells me that you're not a liar, but you'll have to excuse me for being somewhat skeptical. You are, after all, dating my youngest daughter."

With that, Punk nodded in understanding. "I get that, Mr. Lee-Mendez, I do. All I ask is that you give me a chance. I'm in this for the long haul with your daughter, and if you just let me prove it to you..."

"Prove it?" Luis asked, a twinkle appearing in his eyes that made Punk suspicious. "Prove it…interesting choice of words. Okay, _Señor_ Brooks, you say you're a man of your word? I'm going to give you that opportunity to prove yourself, and prove just how badly you want to be in my daughter's life. Would you care for a little wager?"

While he was suspicious, Punk figured this could be his shot to earn AJ's father's respect. "As long as it doesn't involve drinking, drugs or smoking, I guess I wouldn't mind making things interesting."

"No, nothing like that, I run a clean house." Luis brushed that off, but a mischievous smile on his face did little to ease Punk's worries. "A contest. My choice. Right now. If you win, you'll have my blessing to date my daughter, and my word that I will not interfere in your relationship, so long as you treat her well and make her happy."

_Okay, I like the first part of that, but…_ "What happens if I lose?" Punk asked, warily.

Luis' expression went serious as the smile vanished. "If you lose, you end it with April. Tonight. After you leave my house, I'll have your word that you'll stay as far away from her as possible, and I never catch you around my home or near my daughter again. What do you say?"

Phil Brooks couldn't have been more stunned if Luis had told him that he had Jimmy Hoffa buried under their feet. Break up with AJ? Stay out of her life forever? Over a _contest_?

"I'd say you're _nuts_!" Punk said incredulously. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm not gonna bet my relationship with AJ over a game. She's not a trophy, she's my girlfriend, and I respect and care about her too much to do that to her."

"So…you would respect her, yet you would not fight for her." Luis mused aloud. "Not a very convincing argument for why you should be with my baby girl."

"Mr. Lee-Mendez, please, just hear me out." Punk pleaded, earnestly. "I'll do anything you want me to do, but, c'mon, not like this. Don't make me have to put my girlfriend on the line over a contest. It's…it's not fair to her."

"_Señor_ Brooks, I learned long ago when I came to this country that if you want something bad enough, really bad enough, you have to fight for it. A lesson I would wager you have learned in your time, as well." Luis replied unmoved, his arms folded across his chest. "You wanted a chance to get my respect, and I've just given it to you. Turn it away, and I can promise you, I will never approve of you being with my April. I issued you a challenge as a man. If you are truly the kind of man who deserves my daughter, you will accept, and fight for what you claim you hold dear. Unless, of course, they don't know how to fight in _Chicago_."

Punk's eyes narrowed at the insinuation. A part of him realized that AJ was probably gonna kill him for this. However, fighting for what he believed in was part of Phil Brooks' life for as long as he remembered. And if there was one thing he was sure of, it was this…he believed in what he and AJ had. It was dear to him, precious.

He would be willing to fight for it.

With a small smirk, Punk extended his hand. "Challenge accepted, old timer."

Off that, Luis smiled, clasping his hand firmly. Very firmly. "Oh, kid, you have _no_ idea what you're in for. Still…I'll wish you luck. You'll _need_ it."

Punk chuckled, letting a little bit of the cockiness he was known for show. "Nah. Luck's for losers. All I do is win."

Luis' grin was ominous. "_Vamos a ver. _We'll see."

* * *

Back in the kitchen, AJ took a moment to pry herself away from her friends to help her mother with some of the dishes. It had been a while and she had missed moments like this, being able to talk to her mother like she had in the old days.

Unbeknownst to her father, AJ's mother had actually encouraged her to join up in wrestling. She had the wisdom to see that her daughter was happy doing it, that she had a kind of spark in her eyes and an excited grin on her face whenever she came back from the nearby wrestling school, exhausted, sore and sweating but happy as a kid in a candy shop. After all the struggles and the hard life that they had all experienced growing up dirt poor, Isabella Lee-Mendez knew that her youngest child, her baby, needed to escape, and find something out there that was more than they could offer. They had grown closer during that time, and it forever sealed AJ's unyielding trust in her mother for everything.

When she got into her film school in high school, she called her mother first. When she got her first paid wrestling gig, AJ was on the phone chattering excitedly with her mother. When she got her long-awaited call up with the WWE, she shrieked with joy along with her mother as they celebrated via Skype. When Daniel dumped her, Isabella soothed her wounded daughter's emotional wounds with words of love and encouragement as she cried over the phone in her hotel room, sobbing tortuously in misery and heartache. Yes, her mom was the rock of AJ's life.

"Well, your boyfriend certainly seems charming." Isabella noted with a smile as she put some of the dishes in the washing machine.

AJ smiled to herself as she recalled Punk's antics. "He likes to think so, too."

Isabella nodded at that. "Hmm, yes. I can see a little bit of your father in him."

At that, AJ's mouth fell. "Okay, no offense, mom, but that just got very creepy very quickly."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that!" Isabella said with a chuckle. "I mean he reminds me of how your father acted when he met me years ago. He was very charming, smooth. He had a way about him that was very inviting. Of course, I resisted it at first, but in the end, he won me over."

"Because of the charm?" AJ raised an eyebrow.

"No." Isabella shook her head. "Because of his heart. I could see that there was more to him than met the eye. I saw a good man, an honest man…a man who would be willing to fight for what he believed in. He believed in himself…and he believed in us. In _nostoros_, he and I. I saw a man who would go to any lengths to protect me, no matter the cost to himself."

AJ's thoughts drifted to Punk almost instinctively. That sounded a lot like her Punky Bear alright. He was a lot like a Milky Way chocolate bar—dark, smooth and mysterious on the outside, but after you got past the crunchy shell, there was that layer of sweetness, that tender side that he only showed to those truly closest to him. Aside that she had been privileged to not only glimpse into, but immerse herself fully into in these last few glorious months.

"Something tells me you see the same thing in this Phillip you've brought over." Isabella noted.

AJ looked at her mother in some surprise. How could she have possibly known that?

The stunned gaze in her daughter's eyes gave Isabella a chuckle and she offered her a sage smile. "Oh, I know you better than you think, _hija_. I've seen the way you've been looking at him all day, and it's written in your eyes, in your face."

She paused for a beat. "I also read your Twitter account."

"_Mom_!" AJ blurted out, embarrassed.

The older woman merely shrugged. "I've been taking computer lessons at the library over the weekend. I'm starting to get a little more comfortable with all this technology you kids seem to love so much these days."

After a moment, AJ chuckled and shook her head. To this day, her mother was still full of surprises. "Okay, Miss Techno-Geek, I admit it…I fell hard for him." She grinned like a schoolgirl. "Real hard."

"Ae you sure this time?" Her mother asked her cautiously. "You fell hard for the last one, too."

AJ's smile fell as she pictured Daniel in her mind's eye. "Phil's nothing like Daniel. Trust me, he's _completely_ different. It's like comparing apples and…orangutans."

"You mean oranges?"

AJ shook her head. "Nope."

Since her mother didn't quite get the joke, she pressed on to the issue at hand. "April, _chiquita_, I just want you to be sure. The last time you got so involved with someone who you worked with, it ended so badly. I never saw you that sad, baby, I never want to see my little girl like that again."

"You won't, _mami_, I promise." AJ said soothingly, clasping her mother's hand. "Pun-uh, Phil…makes me happy. _Really_ happy. He's sweet, he's smart, and he really cares about me."

"Does he love you?" Isabella's question was serious. "The way that the last one didn't?"

AJ's response was swift, without hesitation. "He does. He told me. And I can feel it."

"Oh, hija, words are only words." her mother waved off that notion. It would have annoyed AJ if it wasn't for her next words. "To see what's really in a man's heart, you have to look at his actions. Has he proven it in his actions? Not just standing up for you in front of _ese desgraciado_of a boss with the funny name you have…" AJ glanced at her mother with surprise, and Isabella rolled her eyes. "Hey, I follow my little girl online with the _You Too_ videos like any other mother would."

"YouTube, ma!" AJ chuckled at her mother's unintentional mispronunciation. "It's called YouTube."

"Yes, that." Her mom shook her head, returning to the point. "It has to be more than that. It has to be something personal. Something special."

"Ma, I like what he's shown me so far." AJ said, almost tiredly. Why was it so hard for her mother to trust her on this? Didn't she know her own feelings better than anyone else? "What do you want him to do, donate his kidneys to me?"

"I just think that some gesture, some proof outside of work…something that shows that he's willing to go any length for you…that's what you should hold out for, April." Isabella said. "I want nothing but the best for you. When it comes to the man in your life, you should accept nothing less than that. Your father may not have been able to give me a lot when times were tough, but no matter what, love got us through everything. It was that love that helped us through the worst of times. You need to hold out for a man that will be there for you through the best and the worst of times. Who is willing to prove that there is nothing he won't do, no obstacle that he won't climb, no challenge he won't face if only for you. When you find that man, then, hija, that's the one you hold onto and never let go of. That one you will be with for the rest of your life."

As a pensive AJ mulled her mother's words of advice, it was at that moment Robert sprinting came through the kitchen, out of breath.

"Guys, check this out in the backyard! Now! Punk and _papi_ are going at it, _hard!_" He panted.

AJ's hands went numb as the plate she was holding plummeted to the floor, the young and beautiful Diva barely registering the loud crashing sound of the porcelain exploding into jagged shards all over the kitchen floor.

It was like the bottom fell out of AJ's stomach at that moment. Of all the worst things that could have possibly happened in this trip, this was undoubtedly the Doomsday Scenario. Punk and her dad? _Fighting_? _In her __**house**_?

"Oh, God!" She muttered in disbelief. "No, no, no…"

She bolted past Robert as she sprinted for the backyard, her brother and mom just behind her.

_Phil, you idiot, I told you to behave yourself and not screw this up for me,_ AJ thought in a panicked and furious state as she made her way outside, pushing her small frame through the loud and shouting crowd of family and friends gathered in the backyard. _You knew how important this was, and now you picked a fight with my __**dad**__?_

"Grrr, just wait, Punk!" AJ growled under her breath as she squeezed her way into the front of the crowd. "When I get thoughhere, I'm gonna kill…you?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, expecting to find Punk and her father trading blows and punches, all bloodied and battered from a fierce battle…but instead she found them waging a different kind of war.

One with ping pong paddles and a table top court set up in the middle of the yard. Punk's brow creased in concentration, shining with beads of sweat as he eagerly whacked a ping pong serve right at Luis, the older man grunting as he returned the serve with a powerful backhand volley right back at the WWE Champion.

Back and forth.

Back and forth again.

Punk volleyed. Her dad parried.

Luis fired. Punk countered.

_Whack_! _Thwak_!

Neither one giving any quarter, neither man backing down as they punished the white bouncing ball bouncing between them in an effort to push it past the other.

AJ stared in bewilderment at the sight. Punk played ping pong? No, scratch that... Punk played ping pong _well_?

Her dad was good. Scary good. In fact, he still had the trophies he had won back in Puerto Rico in a few championship tournaments for cash back before he came to the States. Growing up through the years, she had seen her father and Robert sparring over make-shift tables and a few ping pong balls they bought cheap. Her dad won every time. Embarrassingly.

Yet Punk was giving as good as he was getting, moving lithely and quick, hitting fast and hard, not unlike the way she had seen him wrestle. He looked like he was anything but taken aback by the brute force that the powerful Luis was smashing the ball.

As soon as a grinning Robert made his way to the front, nodding in excitement as he took in the action, AJ looked up at her older brother questioningly. "What…what are they…I thought you said…what is this?" She asked in confusion.

"Cool, isn't it? They've been going like this for like a half-hour!" Robert smiled. "Damn, AJ, your boy can really go! I've never seen anybody go at _papi_ the way he is."

Glancing down and catching the confused look on his baby sister's face, he suddenly caught on. "Oh, wait!" he chuckled. "What, you actually thought I meant they were fighting for real?"

Annoyed, AJ smacked him on the arm. "You made it _sound_ like that, stupid!"

"Hey, hey, come on, now, I thought short people weren't supposed to be this violent!" He teased, earning him another smack from his now-smiling sister. "They've been playing nonstop, except for a drink of water here and there. I've never seen dad work this hard during ping pong. Normally, he'd be up by, like thirty points by now. Punk's been matching him. Dad goes up, Punk ties it, dad goes up again, Punk takes the lead, then dad takes it back, then it's Punk again…it's crazy, man."

"What are they playing to?" AJ asked, her eyes transfixed on the two most important men in her life engaging in this ping pong war.

"Fifty." Robert answered. At that, AJ took a look at the makeshift score board. It was forty eight to forty eight, all…no, make that forty nine to forty eight, advantage, her father, after one of Luis' shots careened right by Punk's outstretched hand for the point, to the roar of the crowd around them.

"You might as well throw in the towel, _Señor_ Phil!" Luis crowed triumphantly as he readied his serve. "I haven't lost a game of ping pong in the last twenty four years."

"Is that right?" Punk nodded, impressed. "Well, you know what they say, sir…"

With that, he sent a smashing shot right past Luis' left side, tying the score at forty nine-all.

"There's a first time for everything." he smirked.

Annoyed, but mildly impressed, the older man grinned. "We'll see, boy. We'll see."

In between the break, Punk caught sight of AJ's pretty face. She gave him a questioning look, as if silently asking what the hell he thought he was doing? Punk gave a rather boyish smile and a clueless shrug. Rolling her eyes at him, she still couldn't help but to smile at his antics, a tiny but heartfelt twitch of her lips that made his pulse race just a little faster. He'd do anything to keep her smiling like that. If that meant hacking and whacking with a ping pong master in a high-stakes game which Punk had only had a handful of times to play in the last year, then that's what he would do.

"This is it, boy," Luis told Punk, who was readying his last serve. "I've been eating your serves for dinner all night. You really think you have what it takes to put that ball past me?"

"Think it? No, sir. I _know_ it," Punk smiled grimly, realizing that this last shot had everything... _everything,_on the line.

Glancing towards AJ, he got an idea. Calling timeout, he trotted over to her, catching her by surprise.

"Hey, give me a smooch for good luck." He said through pants of air. "Last serve, it's a big shot."

"What?" A caught-off-guard AJ balked at that. "Baby, you don't believe in luck."

"You're right, I don't, but it's a big game I'm playing right now."

AJ hesitated. "I don't know…the last time I gave someone a good luck kiss, it didn't work out too well."

"That's 'cause Daniel's a putz, not because you're a jinx!" Punk snorted, before he teasingly cajoled. "C'mon, babe, you're not gonna leave your man hanging out here, are you? In front of all these strangers?"

As a light giggle escaped her lips, AJ smiled. "Okay, fine. But only because you're cute when you're whining."

"Whining?" Punk protested, in mock offense. "I never whine, I was only garnering sympa..."

His teasing protest was cut off when she wrapped her arms around his neck and reeled him in as her head tiled up and lips met his. It wasn't a full, heated one, as AJ didn't want to do that in front of her father. It was tender. Sweet. Intoxicating.

Pulling back to see his green eyes flutter in dazed appreciation with a pleased smile, AJ winked. "Go get 'em, champ."

Smiling, he trotted back to the table, shouting over his shoulder to the petite brunette beauty, "You complete me!" Which made her laugh and shake her head.

Moments later, Punk served his volley, and as promised, Luis sent it rocketing back at him, a little extra juice on that return after his annoyance at seeing Punk openly kiss his daughter in public before their game was settled. Punk countered with a slick return of his own, and on and on they went, the crowd buzzing as each shot went harder, Punk having to move swiftly to his left to keep the ball from sailing past him while Luis had to stretch his arms as wide as he could to keep up with the Chicago native's serves.

Punk kept hitting at the right corner for three consecutive serves, pounding the corner for all his worth, Luis volleying back each shot until the fourth…where Punk pulled a switcheroo and fired the shot to his left, catching Luis off guard. The patriarch of the Lee-Mendez family raced to the corner, swung for it…

…and missed.

Exhausted, Punk raised his hands in triumph as the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Giddy with excitement, AJ squealed as she ran towards Punk, leaping into his arms in celebration while she gave him a victory kiss on the lips. A sense of relief and accomplishment flooding him, Punk spun her around in his arms, revelling in the moment.

A disappointed look on Luis face faded as he saw how happy his baby girl was in Phil's arms. Even with the last one, that Daniel idiot, he had never seen her so happy, so in love. In that moment, he knew what he had to do.

As Luis crossed over to the couple, AJ, catching sight of her father, had the sense to detach herself from Punk as her smile faded and her expression became more nervous while she watched a serious-looking Luis regard Punk.

His smile gone now, Punk could only watch in some anxiousness as he could only guess what would happen next.

Luis's eyes kept trained on Punk's own eyes for a few intense moments…and then he extended his hand.

"Good game, son." Luis nodded respectfully.

Relieved, Punk smiled. "Good game, sir." He replied as he shook his hand, drawing more applause from the onlookers. Sighing in relief, AJ smiled at the sight. It looked like she got what they came here for... her father's approval of their relationship.

"You played well." Luis noted in some admiration.

Punk chuckled. "Well, I had a lot on the line."

Luis shook his head. "No, you didn't." Punk was confused now, so AJ's father explained. "You won as soon as you accepted my challenge. Only the kind of man willing to fight for my daughter will do for my little girl. I just wanted to see if you were that kind of man. You proved it."

For a moment, Punk didn't know what to say. "Wow, that's…very cool of you, sir."

"Thank you." He smiled, but raised a finger in warning. "But remember—she's the most precious thing in my life. Treat her well. Love her the way she deserves to be loved. Hurt her, and I'll make it so that you'll be looking over your shoulder for me for the rest of your life. Understood?"

He had no doubt that Luis meant it, either. Yet, Punk, unfazed, merely nodded. "You have my word, Mr. Lee-Mendez. As a man."

Luis nodded, taking a look at his smiling daughter, her hand tightly gripping Punk's own. "Well, _hija_, I'll give you this much. He's quite the young man you have here."

"Best in the World, daddy," She smiled, winking teasingly at a chuckling Punk.

"Good!" He nodded, smiling as he wrapped a massive arm around AJ's tiny shoulders. "Nothing less will do for my baby."

"Daddy, c'mon, not in front of everybody." AJ lightly protested, but made no effort to pry away from the half-embrace of her father.

"Well, isn't this a Kodak moment!" Punk teased, taking out his iPhone.

AJ's eyes widened. "Phil, don't you dare..."

_Click_!

"Cut it out, Punk, I _mean_ it!" AJ shrieked playfully, covering her face with her hands.

_Click! Click!_

"Oh, yeah, these are totally you, babe!" Punk said teasingly, clicking another shot with his phone.

"Give it!" AJ playfully growled, trying to wrench the phone out of his hands, only for the taller Punk to hold it teasingly above her head. Undaunted, she surprised him by jumping on his back mischievously as she renewed her quest to take that phone from him. Punk let out a loud laugh as he lightheartedly fended her off.

Watching their daughter engrossed in the taller, tattooed wrestler, Isabella smiled as she slowly made her way to Luis. "Have you ever seen her so happy?" She whispered to her husband, taking his massive hand in her tiny one.

His response resulted in a playful slap on his arm. "I suppose she could do worse. Even if he _is_ from Chicago."

* * *

**A Secluded Beach – A Little Over Two Hours Later**

* * *

After everything, April was more than just satisfied that it had _almost_ all gone according to plan. They had her father's blessing, and no one was killed. It had been the perfect day.

"I wanted to top the day off by taking you to a place I've kept to myself all my life." April started to say, and hooked her little hand into his, tugging him along the dusty path that led to a small alcove a few miles from home. "I, I used to come here when I needed time to think, to get a clear head."

"So, you had a secret place you'd go to when you needed to get away too?" Phil asked, curious.

The sun had fallen below the dusky orange-blue horizon, and a cooler sea breeze heavy with salt air now permeated their noses. Beautiful, tall maple trees lined the dirt path, leaves rustling playfully in the soft wind. The closer to the beach they got, the louder the surf. This place was heaven.

Phil followed his girlfriend down the path, gradually opening up onto a white, sandy haven for the noisy chatter of sea gulls and sand pipers. Course sea grass lightly brushed along their naked legs as they made their way down the sandy track, between rows of weather worn grey picket beach fences. There wasn't another living soul as far as the eye could see in either direction.

Before them, the awesome, infinite beauty of the wild, Atlantic Ocean.

"Wow... this is, it's amazing April."

"Told ya." She let go of his hand and wandered out in front of him, kicking off her flip flops. How she loved the feel of the warm, grainy sand as it slipped between her toes.

Punk watched as she skipped playfully down to the ebbing tide like a free spirited child, allowing the waves to wash gently over her little black and red painted toes.

"Oh my god the water's so cold!" She cried out, and turned to face her lover with a big, bright toothy smile. "I brought you here because I trust you. I trust you with everything I hold dear in my life. My family, my friends, my secrets... _me_."

His heart melted. Never had anyone opened themselves up so to fully to him, without question or regret or compromise. He was humbled in her presence, and he almost felt unworthy of her faith in him.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I trust you too, and I'll never take your trust for granted."

"C'mere _Punk_." April held out her hands to the tattooed Second City Saint, her almond eyes dancing with mirth. "Show me how much you love me."

Now this was a game Phil liked to play. Here she was, acting all seductive and naughty, on a beach in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. The sky had now turned a dark, rich hue of indigo, and more than a few stars began to make their nightly celestial appearance. The tone was set. They were both here. He was ready. He approached her eagerly, his eyes opening wide with surprise when she ducked just out of his grasp at the last second.

"Oh, so you wanna play games huh?" He made another desperate grab for her, and again she managed to stay just out of his reach.

"You're way to slow, old timer!" She teased him, and splashed through the water knee deep with her boyfriend now hot on her heels.

"When I, catch you..." He called after her, almost losing his balance and going under. "AJ!"

She squealed with delight, prancing ahead of him, taking time to splash him every chance she got. He couldn't help but laugh himself, not remembering a time when he flopped around on a beach having this much fun. He let her stay ahead of him as he continued to belly ache about it, biding his time for now. She was having the time of her life in his eyes, and he hadn't wanted to cut that too short.

"This playing hard to get is gonna backfire on you really soon, little girl!" He warned, peeling off his shirt and tossing it to the sand.

AJ took a few steps back ward, sticking out her tongue for good measure. "Give up?"

"Do I look like the sort of man who gives up that easily? Look what I did to your dad." He asked, throwing it back to the sprightly young woman. "If you continue to misbehave like this, I'm going to have to punish you."

"Promises, promises..."

She studied the serious expression he wore on his handsome face, and how he tried in vain to suppress his own laughter. God, he was so beautiful to her. He was now standing knee deep in the calm surf himself, his black shorts soaked and clinging to every sexy contour of his body, hiding nothing. He'd long since discarded his shoes on the beach with his shirt. Her eyes roamed over the hard planes of his colourful chest, along his well defined arm muscles and down his flat stomach to that cute little navel she loved to kiss while tracing his Straight Edge tattoo with her finger nails. Her will to stay away from him was quickly diminishing. She needed him to touch her.

"I'm waiting, old man."

That was it. She was just close enough, he was sure. Without so much as a sound, he leapt at her, catching her around the waist as she screamed. They both crashed under the waves, immediately coming up for air. Sputtering in between raucous laughter, April struggled against her captor, albeit half-heartedly. Both of them gradually calmed enough to stop their childish chortling, panting as the waves lapped at their oxygen starved bodies.

April's dark, animated eyes caught Phil's smokey, olivine gaze, and for an instant, they both stilled. She could feel her heart race underneath her ribs, and an undeniable, unspoken connection between them. Her eyes then dipped lower to his open mouth and his ragged breath. She brought one hand up, tracing her fingers gently along the square of his scratchy jaw line, then across his cheek and up into his wet, dark hair. Her front teeth dragged over her lower lip, and she ran her tongue teasingly along the top.

"K-kiss me."

This was not an idle request.

His eyes noticed the subtle catch in her breath, and the urgent rise and fall of her chest, her tee shirt intimately hugging every curve and hollow. Swallowing hard, he tilted his head to the right, and leaned toward her, his eyes fluttering shut as his mouth covered hers in a tender, searching kiss. The soft, warm sensation created enticed him further, and he explored even deeper, gliding his hungry tongue around hers as she moaned against him.

Her hands now lay flat on his chest, and she slowly slid them up over his shoulders and hooked them together behind his neck, pulling him in even closer. The sexy, growling noise emerging from his throat created a shock wave through her very being, and she forcefully yanked him down on top of her as she fell back onto a bed of soft sand, littered with small rounded pebbles, broken sea shells, and small bits sea weed.

Eagerly climbing over her trembling body on his elbows and knees, he nestled his hips into the tight, comforting vee of her legs. Plucking the wet strands of errant hair from her face and eyes, he smiled at her. She literally took his breath away every damned day. He was so in love with this woman. He couldn't see himself without her, content to spend the rest of his life beside her just like this. The cool ocean air lifted goose bumps up along his bare back, but he didn't care. He was here on a deserted beach in Jersey, alone with April, and staring into her animated, gold flecked eyes. What more could a man ask for?

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, her voice now quiet and gentle.

It made his heart almost stop.

"I was thinking of how amazing you are. I know I have something special with you, and I'll never let that go. I'll never let you go, April. Ever."

She brought up her hand and brushed her fingers through his hair again, picking the hair from his eyes as he'd done for her. "I love you, Phillip."

The water sloshed in and away from their legs as the tide slowly ebbed out under a moonless sky. Once more Phil kissed her, leaving a warm, wet trail across her hot, prickling skin from her lips down her neck, and into the hollow curve of her throat. She leaned back even more, trying to give him additional access to her body as her fingers now dug deeply into the damp, cool sand. He tucked his hands up under her shirt, pushing it up along her tummy until he grew impatient, tugging it the rest of the way over her head and tossed it aside. He was almost sitting over her, his eyes roaming over the smooth, caramel skin of his girlfriend as she lay open before him, clad only in her black satin bra and a pair of _very_ short shorts.

"You make me, so... so fucking horny." He rasped from the valley of her breasts as his thumb and fore finger twirled the hardened peak of her nipple through the thin material of her bra.

April squirmed under him, soft mewing noises now emerging from her. "Oh... god..." She could feel that familiar heat now pooling between her legs as he shamelessly rubbed his large, growing need into her thigh. She grabbed hold of his biceps, squeezing with all her might when she felt the front clasp of her bra break open. "_Please_..."

"Please... _what_?" He teased, his mouth now closing over her rounded, pliant breast. Sucking gently at first, he sampled her, groaning against her skin, swirling his tongue around and over the painful, hardened crest. Nibbling there, he carefully took her other breast in his hand, squeezing and caressing until she started to cry out, her finger nails now digging into the soft flesh of his arms.

"Y-you're killing me here..." She complained, sliding her hands up over his shoulders and down his back, pausing at his narrow hips.

The sound of the ocean lapping at their bodies and the cool sea breeze did nothing to deter the lovers as they recklessly rolled around in the sand, its tiny grains sticking to their wet, clammy skin. She wedged her little hinds in between their tummies, her fingers tugging and pulling on the waistband of his gym shorts. Getting resourceful, April decided she was done waiting. Bringing up one foot, she hooked her toes inside his shorts and under wear, wrenching them both down over his hips and around his thighs. Punk shucked them away, now completely naked.

"Jesus... you're unbelievably bendy, sweetheart." He murmured, his lips grazing a white hot trail down between her breasts and lower, across her flat, quivering stomach.

His large hand splayed out over her middle, slipping lower, finally reaching her last barrier. Within seconds, he had her little hot pants loosened and was sliding them down her lithe, athletic legs. Rolling to the side, he held her against him, cupping her round bottom in his hands with a gentle, pleasing squeeze.

"This feels like magic..." April whispered, clinging to him at the shoulders. "Look at all the stars!" She marveled.

"You're all the magic I need..." he replied, his hands firmly planted at her hips, "and you're the brightest star in the sky."

"I love you Phil."

"I love you too, April."

Laying back between the sea grass and the water, neither one of them caring that they had sand sticking to almost every nook and cranny of their naked, shivering bodies. He knelt between her thighs, taking one of her legs in his hands, and slowly massaged the muscles from her ankle to her knee. April closed her eyes and freed herself, allowing her body to feel everything he was about to do to her. She could feel a tingling deep inside her belly, the closer he got to the top of her leg. His hands were scratching a little along the tender skin of her inner thigh from the sand collected there, but she didn't care. All she wanted was to immerse herself in this wonderful moment while he loved her.

When his lips touched her lower belly, she shook, enticing a satisfied grin from him. She was his. She was burning now, unable to stifle the guttural moans escaping her lips. It was as if he was setting her aflame, and she had no interest in quenching the fire deep inside her loins. He slowly dragged his hand over her soft, silky curls and left several feathery light kisses along the inside of her thighs, making her arch her hips up, begging for more.

"Please, touch me..." She breathlessly muttered, her hot, pulsing core needing to feel all of him.

He gladly complied, coursing his fingers artfully down between her delicate, inviting folds. This was the one flower he always knew would be in full bloom. She gasped as he inserted two of his fingers inside her, gently rubbing in and out... appreciating the hot, sticky wetness she gratefully provided him.

"Does that feel good?" He asked her, leaning in and tasting her for himself.

"Uh huh..." Came her jagged reply as his mouth kissed and licked the most private part of her body.

His beard scratched a little, but he felt so damned good. It was as if she were losing herself when he began to push and tug on that little jangle of mixed up, electrified nerves. Waves of short, mind numbing throbbing began to gradually advance in slow succession with each careful nip, tickle and swirl of his tongue against her over stimulated, mysterious pearl. She had no idea how much time had elapsed since he started, but it never seemed like enough. At times, all he had to do was look at her a certain way and she would get wet from across a room. Her entire body suddenly started to tense up and shudder, and her legs began to try and close in tight around his head. He had to force them apart a little just to breathe.

"Oh god... don't, please, don't... stop..." She begged, her hands clutching fist fulls of his dark, damp hair.

She let go of a wild cry, and her legs began to tremble with each intense, successive exploding wave of delights. Her poor heart felt as if it was about to vault from her chest, and despite the cold air all around them, she was now red hot.

His mouth fiercely took hers once again as he easily pushed her still quaking legs apart. She could now feel the stiff length of him across her leg as she circled her arms around his neck in wild abandon, revelling in the sweaty, salty scent now permeating his blazing, slippery skin. He had one hand on her hip, and the other cradling her head so he could look into the gold ribbons of her fathomless eyes. His lips then slid from the fleshy part of her ear, down her throat, sucking hard enough for her whimper with anticipation of what was coming.

Phil slowly pulled himself up to cover her mouth in a slanted, urgent kiss, his hands now framing her face as her body tremors began to fade. He loved to watched her in this state, awestruck with what he could do to her.

Looking up at him, she offered a weak, pleased smile, and kissed him on the tip of his nose.

He reached over to where his shorts had been discarded, fumbling for his wallet. He had to have a condom, he just _had_ to...

Climbing back over her body once again, he peppered her neck and face with soft, warm kisses as he moved with purpose between her legs. Her sharp intake of breath and the way she clung to his shoulders the moment his rigid flesh thrust deep inside her, filled him with undiluted passion. The oneness she felt when they were joined like this was unlike anything she'd ever known in her life. He started to move, rocking gently in and out, stretching her... she was fully consumed by him. Her body held him within her, grasping him with each inward thrust of his hips. He levied smooth and even strokes, all the while cradling her head in his hands, dropping small, fleeting kisses to her face, neck and swollen pink lips. They both remained silent for a while, allowing all of nature to be the backdrop of their sacred union.

"How... does this... feel?" He asked her, gradually changing his angle and force of pace.

All she could do was nod, grasping at the sand with her fists. She couldn't string together a sensible thought as he thrust harder, his own heart rate escalating to the point of madness. He could feel her start to stiffen beneath him, and her body tighten around his. She was close, and he was right on the edge of of the precipice himself.

April suddenly felt another mind numbing flurry of feverish white hot streaks now tearing through her very being at the speed of light. Her stomach muscles twisted into a vaulting ball of fire as it twisted inside. She grabbed hold of Phil, almost afraid she might lose herself as her body convulsed violently under his. Harder and faster he rocked, until he too found that mind altering state of bliss, pinning April to the sandy beach as he thrust once more, twice more...

Laying there in the sand still joined together, he held her in his arms, both now gazing up to the night sky.

"I, I love you April... I always will." He told her in a rasping, breathless voice. Closing his eyes, he pressed his face to hers in an affectionate hug.

There weren't a lot of things that had gone right in Punk's hard life. But for that one moment, for one night, he had this moment. Alone, naked in a star-lit paradise with the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

For one sweet moment…life was perfect.

Unfortunately, even perfection can't last forever, as he was about to find out the hard way…

* * *

TBC

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**Next: Things are sweet right now for AJ and Punk, but villains never rest, and their enemies have some big plans in store with No Way Out approaching fast. What will happen on the next Monday Night Raw?**

* * *

A/N: Guess who's _baaaaaack_!

Hey, everyone! Sorry about the delay, but work has gotten extraordinarily busy in the last few months, and, well, like the song says, "I've got my mind on my money, and my money on my mind." Haven't been watching much of Raw, either, as Punk's on hiatus. But when he does get back, I'm sure that, as JR would say, "_Business is about to pick up, bah gawd_!"

Well, I've had some free time in spurts lately, and I figured I'd take the time to update one of my more favorite projects here on FF dot net. Plus, well, I missed you guys, so I had to get back in the game. **Special** **shout-out and thanks to ****RedFoxie**, one of the more brilliant and talented writers I've ever come across. She helped me out by writing the _amazing and magical love_ _scene_ you guys just read. (Details for those things aren't normally my wheelbasket, but I wanted to give a very intimate feeling for Punk's and AJ's weekend in Jersey.) A little calm before the storm. Visit her page and read her stories, she is amazing!

Well, it looks like Punk survived the parents. But the real tension begins in the next chapter—which should be a prelude for a dangerous night of action on Raw as we see just how low Punk's enemies will stoop to taking the WWE title from him. And what happens next will be a true test for our favorite couple as their relationship is stretched to its limits…and possibly beyond. And don't think Sheamus and Kaitlyn won't have their hands full, either, as the next few chapters roll into what should be an eventful night at No Way Out 2012. All to be revealed soon.

**Spotlight Fic of the Week:** Read "**Desperate Measures" by MyChaosTheory**. When Punk, a career criminal, and his running mates Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollings and Roman Reigns' lives get entangled with a kind, beautiful young veterinarian named AJ, nothing in their lives will ever be the same. If you've never read a MyChaosTheory fic, don't miss out on this one. Humor, drama, romance, angst and suspense…what more could you ask for?

The next chapter is actually ready to go, and will be posted online here at **7 p.m. EST Friday, May 17, 2013**, only on FF Dot Net!

By the way, for exclusive excerpts and preview for the next chapter, subscribe to my Facebook account, which you can find on my profile page. Read, comment, review and dance to the Fandango theme song! Later!

* * *

**#PunkleeNation**

**#RedFoxieProductions**

**#Core4**

**#AJPunk**

* * *

-Jean-theGuardian


	23. BACKSTAGE FALLOUT Exclusive

**Hard To Handle**

**Part 17**

* * *

**Caught on WWE Backstage Fallout**

**Weekend Edition**

* * *

W/ **Alberto Del Rio and Ricardo** during Saturday House Show in New Jersey

* * *

Cameras caught Alberto Del Rio, dressed in black suit, white shirt and gold tie, as he readied to exit the arena alongside his personal ring announcer Ricardo Rodriguez.

INTERVIEWER: Uh, hey, Alberto, Ricardo, how're you guys doing? Can we talk with you guys for a second?

DEL RIO (stops to check his $10,000 Rolex watch, smug grin on his face): But of course, _naco_, everyone wants to know what Alberto Del Rio has to say, and where better to hear it than on "Backstage Fallout" in front of all my adoring fans around the world?

INTERVIEWER: (an uncomfortable beat) Right…well, first off, congratulations on your victory over Sin Cara out there tonight. That was some pretty stiff competition

DEL RIO (dismissively): Competition? _Sin Cara_? He is nothing to me. Even in Mexico, I was by far a better athlete and a better performer than that ugly, clumsy fool, _ese perro pobre_ (that lowly dog) ever was. And he is ugly, let me tell you. Why else would he wear a mask in the ring? I just did what Alberto Del Rio always does, and that's take care of business. That is why I'm the Number One Contender for the World Heavyweight Championship.

INTERVIEWER: Okay, well, on that note, let's talk about that. Word just broke over the weekend that you'll be facing the current World Heavyweight Champion Sheamus _and_ Dolph Ziggler in a triple threat match in about a week at No Way Out. What are your thoughts on that, and do you have any issue with not having it be a single one-on-one title match?

DEL RIO: My thoughts? My thoughts are what they've always been, _naco_. Mr. Laurinaitis gave me a title shot, an opportunity, to prove to the world exactly what Alberto Del Rio is capable of, which is giving that _perro asqueroso_ (dirty dog) Sheamus another brutal beating like the one I gave him on Smackdown. Would I have liked it to be a one-on-one match? Absolutely. Dolph Ziggler doesn't deserve to be in the same ring as me. And who is Dolph Ziggler? He's a coward, a _fool_, who hides behind Vickie Guerrero's skirt, who has done _nothing_ to deserve a world title match. He is nothing but a joke, a…(disdainfully) a _cheerleader_. He is not a man; he is nobody. But it doesn't matter. You know why? Because I am better than _both_ Sheamus and Dolph Ziggler combined.

The blood of greatness is in my veins. My father, Dos Caras, was one of the greatest luchadors of all-time. My uncle, the great Mil Mascaras, is a WWE Hall of Famer, one of the greatest who ever set foot in the ring. And I, Alberto Del Rio, have reached heights that neither of them ever touched. _I_ am a two-time WWE Champion. _I_ won the 2011 Royal Rumble. _I_ won Money in the Bank, and that was all in one year! Imagine what Alberto Del Rio will be able to accomplish with a full career. And it starts again at No Way Out when I take home another trophy to add to my many, many possessions, and that is the World Heavyweight Championship.

INTERVIEWER: But are you concerned at all at the repercussions you could be facing from Sheamus himself after your brutal attack on him last Friday on Smackdown?

DEL RIO: (laughing, dismissively) Does Alberto Del Rio look scared of Sheamus? Do I look intimidated by Sheamus? Ricardo, do I look intimidated?

RICARDO: (smiling cockily) No, _patron_ (boss). Alberto Del Rio never gets scared.

DEL RIO: (to interviewer) Do I look worried like a little girl, _una_ _niña_? No, because that's for weak people, for peasants like _you_. If anyone should be scared, it should be Sheamus. He was walking around for the last three years thinking he was untouchable, thinking he was the king.

People are scared of him, of the man that ended Triple H's full-time ring career. Of the man who retired Jamie Noble. They were all scared of the big, tough, scary Celtic Warrior. But me? I've done what no one else has ever done. I hurt Sheamus. I _humbled_ him. I left the so-called "Great White" gasping for air like a little _olomina_, a guppy, out of water. I left him embarrassed and bleeding and lying on the ground like the _perro_ that he is, at the feet of Alberto Del Rio. And the only reason I didn't break his arm isn't because that _gringo puerco_ CM Punk tried to attack me with a chair, no. It's because I wanted Sheamus just healthy enough to defend his title at No Way Out, so _I_ can take it from him where it counts.

He's finally met someone who is a better wrestler, who is a better fighter, who is better looking, and who is more successful than he ever could be. And I'm going to prove it at No Way Out when I become a world champion…_again_. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to go eat somewhere that is so expensive that you could barely afford the leftovers. But get back to me after No Way Out, after I give Backstage Fallout an exclusive interview with the new World Heavyweight Champion, Alberto Del Rio.

INTERVIEWER: You sound pretty confident in yourself, Alberto.

DEL RIO: (smirking) It's not confidence, _naco_. It's just destiny.

RICARDO: (putting his hand in front of the lens) Okay, okay, interview's over, eh? _Muevete, muevete_! (Move, Move!)

* * *

Cut to:

W/** Dolph Ziggler** during Saturday House Show in New Jersey

* * *

Cameras caught Dolph Ziggler, towel slung over his shoulder, smirking and admiring a centerfold in WWE Magazine. Zoom in to reveal picture of: Kaitlyn, wearing a slinky black bikini during a beach shoot.

INTERVIEWER: Uh, hey, Dolph, do you have a-

ZIGGLER: (caught off guard, putting magazine down in a haste) Huh? Oh, uh, hey, hey, how you guys doing?

INTERVIEWER: So, uh…did we catch you at a bad time?

ZIGGLER: No, not at all, I was just (smirking as he takes a look back at the magazine laid down on nearby crate) admiring the view.

INTERVIEWER: Well, uh, speaking of views, it looks like the World Heavyweight Championship is finally in your sights again.

ZIGGLER: (smiling proudly) Yes, indeed. And it took 'em long enough, but thanks to my manager, the lovely Vickie Guerrero, and the wisdom of our esteemed General Manager John Laurinaitis, I finally have a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship. The Showoff now has the stage set in eight nights to steal the whole damn show at No Way Out and become a _two-time! Two-time!_ World Heavyweight Champion.

INTERVIEWER: Well, Alberto Del Rio seems to think that he'll have the advantage coming in-

ZIGGLER: (cuts off interviewer) Hey, hey, let me stop you right there, huh? Who the hell is Alberto Del Rio? That Nacho Cheesy greaseball with that Tattoo from Fantasy Island reject-of-a-butler he has walking around with him? _That's_ your future world champion? Puh-lease. He only got lucky with beating down on Sheamus because _I_ softened up that Groundskeeper Willie-talkin', Bart Simpson-haired freak show in the ring, where it's supposed to be done, not with a cheap shot attack. Because that's what Dolph Ziggler is all about. I steal the show. I'm the best damn thing to happen to Friday nights since "TGIF" went off the air. (in rapid fire succession) And I'm gonna prove that by climbing back to the top of the mountain at No Way Out, by doing-what-I-do-better-than-everyone-else-and-that 's-steal-the-whole-show again.

INTERVIEWER: Well, Dolph, tell me about the frustrations you've had in waiting. It's pretty well documented that your last world title reign ended fairly…prematurely.

ZIGGLER: (darkly, getting visibly angry) Hey, watch your step, pencil neck, or I'll snap you like a twig. You wanna go there? Okay, fine, let's go there. Yeah, I was a world champion for a night, and I lost it the same night. I lost it to Edge, a great competitor but a guy whose neck was basically hanging on by a thread. I was younger, I was stupid. But I've learned from that mistake since then. I'm tougher, I'm more vicious, I'm more aggressive and I've never wanted anything more badly than I want that title back around my waist for real this time.

(Getting more agitated) You think I don't hear what people say about me behind my back? I hear all of it. How "Dolph Ziggler's a joke," "Dolph Ziggler hides behind a woman," that "Dolph Ziggler can't win the big one." Or, better yet, "He's just a cheerleader." Even after six long years of busting my ass here, winning the WWE Tag Team titles, winning the U.S. title, the Intercontinental title, being a former World Heavyweight Champion, I _still_ don't get the respect that I deserve. Even after all I've sacrificed, all I've given of myself, people _still_ think of me as a joke, and I'm _sick of it_!

I hear it all the time. It's what fuels me. It drives me. And it motivates me to be the best. So I'm gonna take all that motivation, and turn it on all the doubters, the haters and the naysayers and stuff it down their throats at No Way Out. There isn't a single superstar in that locker room who has my amateur background, who can do the things I can do out there in the ring, who's faster and more athletic, who's more charismatic than me. Not Sheamus, not Del Rio, not CM Punk or John Cena or Randy Orton, _nobody_. And I'm gonna prove it.

There isn't any backstage politics here holding me back, or any more dead weight like Jack Swagger, that useless tool, holding me down anymore. I've got my shot. And I'm taking it. And in eight days, I'm coming to East Rutherford, New Jersey with one mission: take the world title. Earn my respect. And I'm gonna pledge it to you like this, right here on "Backstage Fallout" - Dolph Ziggler will be the next World Heavyweight Champion. Yeah, that's right, I'm calling my shot, like Joe Namath did in Super Bowl III, like Babe Ruth in the World Series, like the Cowboys' Jimmy Johnson in the NFC title game. Dolph Ziggler, the Showoff, is walking out of No Way Out as the new world champion. It's my time, and it's about _damn_ time. I'm gonna steal the show, I'm gonna steal the gold…

(trails off, grabs the centerfold of Kaitlyn, flashes his trademark cocky smile)…and maybe I'll steal someone's girl along the way. Show…Off.

(walks off screen)

* * *

Cut to:

W/ **Daniel Bryan** during Saturday House Show in New Jersey

* * *

Cameras caught Daniel Bryan in the parking lot, with a black briefcase he holds guardedly as he talks in hushed whispers over the phone with someone.

INTERVIEWER: Hey, Daniel, do you have a second?

DANIEL: (to phone) Hang on, I'll call you back. Later. (to camera, gruffly) What? What do you guys want?

INTERVIEWER: Uh, well, just wanted to ask…well, first off, what's with the briefcase?

DANIEL: (a long pause, then replies, annoyed) You ask too many questions.

INTERVIEWER: Okay…well, in that case, we just wanted to catch up to you regarding the developments on Smackdown. Why did you attack Chris Jericho?

DANIEL: Are you dense? Or retarded? Or both? Jericho is my opponent along with CM Punk for the WWE Championship at No Way Out. It's called "getting the upper hand." A little "Strategy 101" for you.

INTERVIEWER: But Chris wasn't announced as your opponent for No Way Out until after-

DANIEL: (annoyed) Hey, what are you, Columbo? It doesn't matter why I did it, I have my reasons.

INTERVIEWER: Would they have to do with your ex-girlfriend, AJ, who was being cornered by-?

DANIEL: (deadpanned) I have my reasons.

INTERVIEWER: Well, could you at least tell us if you were involved in the attack on Sheamus by Alberto Del-?

DANIEL: (irritated, coldly) I. Have. My. Reasons.

INTERVIEWER: (nervously) Right…then, could you at least tell us your thoughts on your upcoming Triple Threat WWE Championship match at No Way Out against Punk and Jericho?

DANIEL: (chuckles, smirks) Thoughts? You'd like that, wouldn't you? That's what you little reporters do with your questions and your conspiracy theories and your sound bytes. It doesn't matter what my thoughts are. I could stand here and tell you the same thing that probably every other idiot who's ever been on "Backstage Fallout" has told you. I could tell you that I'm guaranteeing victory, like Jericho did, I could promise you the moon, the stars and the constellations and everything under the moon. But that's just talk. And talk is cheap. I'm a man of action. I said I would make it to the WWE roster, and I did it. I said that I would be a World Heavyweight Champion, and I won it. I said I would compete at WrestleMania with the world title, and that's exactly what I did. Daniel Bryan is a do-er. I do things. All the others do is talk. All Daniel Bryan does is win.

But I will tell you what I feel. I feel like I'm in the best shape of my life. I feel like I've never been hotter at any point in my career. I feel like you are talking to the next WWE Champion. To sum it up (pausing, affectionately pats briefcase) I feel like a million dollars.

INTERVIEWER: (suspiciously) What's that supposed to mean?

DANIEL: Maybe you should tune in to Raw on Monday to find out. Because I'll have a _very_ special announcement concerning WWE Champion CM Punk. That's all I'm going to say right now. But you know, I will say this…(smiling ominously) it's _amazing_ the kinds of things people will do for money these days. This interview is over.

(pushes interviewer aside as he opens the door to his car and climbs in. Engine roars to life, and Daniel speeds off into the night, leaving nothing but questions for Monday Night Raw.)

-END TRANSMISSION-

* * *

TBC...

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**Next: The action continues on Monday Night Raw one week before No Way Out. With CM Punk's title on the line, how will Daniel Bryan's announcement change the outlook of the WWE title picture? And will Punk be able to keep AJ safe while dealing with the latest threat to his title reign, his health and his relationship?**

**And Sheamus will be in the house. Will the world champion have a response for Alberto Del Rio's attack? And when Dolph Ziggler sets his sights on Kaitlyn, what will this mean for Sheamus and his budding relationship with the Hybrid Diva?**

**Tune in and find out…Peace Out, Peeps!**

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**Spotlight Fics of the Week: **

**Read "Betrayal" by Noraque: **A deep and dark look at Heel!AJ, complete with a little Punklee goodness on the side. If you ever wanted to see AJ's heel persona explored in a deeper light, this is a fic for you. Well written by a very talented author.

**Read "Crazy Love" by heidipoo: **A series of funny, heartwarming drabbles between Punk, AJ and the life they build outside the ring. She's an up-and-coming writer with serious talent, so if there was ever a story to take a look at, this would be it. Keep an eye on this girl, folks, she's got talent and she's getting better all the time!

**Read "Love, Honor and Glory" by Maizeandbluekid: **** After his **victory at the Royal Rumble over the Rock, CM Punk begins to rekindle his damaged relationship with AJ, recently dumped by Dolph Ziggler. But as they grow closer, will AJ's love be enough to bring light back into Punk's darkened heart? And what will his manager, Paul Heyman, have to say about this? Great concept, a story that's coming along and getting better with each chapter. Read it! Review it! Love it!

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**C**harlie

**O**scar

**R**omeo

**E**cho

**4**

**#PunkleeNation**

**#Core4**

**#Jean-theGuardianPromotions**

**#Heels**

**#Raw**

-Jean-theGuardian


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